


If at first you don't succeed, try again (for love)

by queststar



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Notting Hill Fusion, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff and Smut, Hyperion Heights (Once Upon a Time), Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Some Humor, Swan Queen - Freeform, swanqueen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:46:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26082148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queststar/pseuds/queststar
Summary: Emma Swan owns a fantasy store in Hyperion Heights, Seattle. One day, an all too familiar movie star comes to buy a book. And that's where it all starts.Or: Notting Hill, OUAT Style.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 139
Kudos: 303





	1. This Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> SO! Ever since I ended Sleepless in Storybrooke I knew I wanted to Swanqueenify Notting Hill as well, but it's been a tough ride. I've left parts out and added new parts where I saw them fit, but Notting Hill fans will still see that the story closely follow the movie :)
> 
> Also, one of the ways for me to plot out and ponder about a story is to drive the car with some music on, which resulted in the chapter titles being songs that gave me so much feels while writing them - nothing bad about the original NH soundtrack because that one's amazeballs :) Here's the playlist of all the songs: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2gy6jjAd9i9DivfEedF2Wg

Sometimes, there’s an event in your life that your mind just can’t deal with. Your brain will just shut down in order to cope with the situation, leaving it to your instincts to deal with it, hoping that the primal reactions of your body will get you out of the ordeal safely. Instincts are usually more capable of determining whether an event is a fight or flight situation, and will get you out of trouble without even thinking about it.

Unfortunately, both Emma Swan’s brains and instinct fail her the moment she recognizes the woman who just entered her fantasy shop. She just... gawks, in a not so flattering way.

Today had started out like any other day. After her alarm forcefully pulled her from her slumber, Emma dragged herself out of the bed, took a quick shower, got dressed, and before her flatmate even stirred, she was already out and about, walking the short walk to her fantasy shop. It is a pattern that Emma follows six days a week except on Sundays and it makes for a great routine. 

Once inside, Belle is always quick to join her, offering to get the first round of coffee every morning. In the meantime, Emma will open the register and turn the sign on the door to “Open”. 

She's been running the store for a couple of years now. Once Upon a Time, as she’s called it, once was a bookshop, but she had expanded it with board games, statues of fantasy figures and all sorts of trinkets, including jewelry and weapon props. Books alone would not cut it, but board games and especially jewelry sold very well as gifts, so she had nothing to complain about. In fact, sales went so well that she had added Belle, an avid reader and walking encyclopedia when it comes to books, to her payroll. Belle naturally manages the book section on her own while Emma takes care of the other parts.

She loves her shop. The entire story breathes fantasy. The store’s sign is a book cover, named Once Upon a Time, after a very famous and old book of fairy tales. When you step inside, it’s almost like you enter another world. Emma’s hired a wood carver, Marco, who’s built her counter and book cases as if they’re living trees. The ceiling’s covered with leaves and on some of the branches are sitting fantasy creatures - all of which are for sale - and the displays are like the glass coffin from Snow White. One of which is behind the counter with rare collectors items, not for sale, but it's a nice addition. There’s a small reading table with comfortable chairs modelled after the Beast's chair in Beauty and the Beast. There’s dozens of little details that you can only find when you really pay attention, but it also makes for customers to come back because they love to spot the little easter eggs in the store.

Just now, Belle had left to get them both a coffee (and a bear claw for breakfast for Emma), and Emma had opened the shop, when a woman had stepped in, one strangely familiar and yet, not at all. Emma had flashed her a polite smile as she entered, like she did with all customers. “Welcome! Let me know when you need help with finding anything.” The woman, wearing sunglasses even inside, had politely smiled back and disappeared behind a rack of books.

Then, the gawking had started. 

She has never met this woman before.

And yet, she has seen her a million times already.

Her brain short circuits, trying to work out how she knows the woman, when realization suddenly hits. 

Inside her humble fantasy store stands Regina Mills, best paid Hollywood movie actress of this moment. This is way, way too much for her poor brain to handle. She snorts and blinks in disbelief, snapping her jaws shut the moment she realizes her chin has dropped to around the height of her ankles. 

This isn’t really happening.

But it really is.

Another customer enters, nods to her, before moving to the back of the store. Emma’s mind is still trying to make sense of a famous movie star being in Hyperion Heights, not one of the best neighborhoods in Seattle, and what’s more, having said movie star in her own store.

She tilts her head, overstraining to see more than just a few strands of dark brown, nearly black hair and a shoulder behind the bookcase and opens her mouth to say something. And then thinks again, before snapping her jaws shut once more. Get it together, Swan, she scolds herself. She’s a customer like any other. She forces herself to be more casual, or at least she thinks she does. But since both her mind and instinct have run out the door, she smiles dopily.

“Um, can I help you?” Emma offers. The woman appears briefly from the cabinets, still wearing her sunglasses. 

"No, thank you,” she answers, and it sounds as if Emma’s being dismissed. “I’m just looking around.” 

“Okay.” Emma follows her with her eyes as she steps around the cabinet to the other side, and is now looking at her back. Emma’s eyes wander over Regina’s back, linger on her ass, then legs, before she scolds herself again. Regina moves her hand up to pick a book, and she takes a copy of a new “Alice in Wonderland” version. 

“If it’s Alice you’re interested in,” she can’t help but tell Regina, because really, she has to say  _ something _ , “You should consider this one. That’s a retelling, this is the original.” She picks up a book from the counter. “It’s way better than that one. And it’s on… discount, too,” she adds lamely. Regina Mills can probably buy her entire store from under her and it would probably not even create a dent in her bank account. 

The silence following her words is almost eerie. If there were crickets in here, their chirping would be deafening.

“Thank you,” Regina then says definitively, opening the version she holds in her own hands, turning a few pages. “I will consider it.” She turns her back towards Emma, but Emma can’t shut up. She’s just incapable of doing so. “If it’s really that one you want, we also have a really nice hardcopy-” she starts and Regina’s back goes rigid for a second, but Emma stops talking the moment she sees movement on her security camera. 

There’s a small camera in the back of the store, the part that they can’t see from the counter, and on it, she spots the customer who entered after Regina did, putting something under his coat. 

“I’m sorry, just a second,” she murmurs at Regina, while moving to the section in the back. 

“Excuse me,” she tells the guy. He looks up. He looks a bit greasy, as if he hasn’t showered in a few days. She pulls up her nose when his sweaty odor hits her nose. He has a mut of brown hair on his chin that probably needs to pass for a goatee and dark brown eyes which eye her warily.

“Yes?”   
  
“Bad news, buddy,” she smirks.

“What?” The guy raises his eyebrows. Challenging her. And Emma likes a good challenge. She flashes him a smirk.

“We’ve got a security camera in this part of the shop.” She points at a camera in the top corner, and he gazes up briefly.

“So?” he says, unimpressed, turning his eyes back to her.

“So, I saw you put that boardgame in your pants,” Emma tells him.

“What game?”   
  
“The one in your pants,” Emma helpfully repeats.

“I don’t have a game in my pants,” the man says, staring blankly at her. 

“Right,” Emma says, wrinkling her nose. “I tell you what. I’ll call the police, and you know, if I’m wrong about the whole game in your pants scenario, I’ll apologize sincerely.” His eyes flash from her to the door and to the brunette standing between Emma and his exit. “I wouldn’t think about that. Your third option would me to Krav Maga you out of the store, but it’d probably mean a run to the nearest ER for you.” She stuffs her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and tilts her head a little, lazily waiting for his answer.

The man shifts nervously. “So, uh,” he stammers, “what if I did have a game in my pants? Hypothetically, I mean?” 

Emma smirks. “Well, ideally, when I went back to the counter, you’d remove Munchkins from your pants, and uh, either wipe it thoroughly before putting it back, or buy it instead.” She stares at him for another second, before she adds: “I’ll see you in a second.”

She turns around and makes her way back to the counter, where Regina Mills is standing, leafing through a book. “Sorry about that,” she says apologetically. 

“No, it’s fine,” Regina answers, looking down at the book she’s holding, but Emma can swear she sees a smile tugging at the corner of the movie star's lips. “I was going to steal one, but now I have changed my mind.” She looks up, and smirks, and Emma’s mind goes blank instantly. Her heart starts to pound so loud that she fears Regina Mills can hear it and a warmth spreads from her belly. She wants to see that smile again, and returns it with a lopsided one of her own. 

Regina’s eyes trail over a small showcase behind the counter. “That looks nice,” she says. It makes Emma beam with pride. “That’s my private collection,” she confides in Regina. “First edition fairy tale books.” 

“They look very old.”    
  
“That’s because they are.” Suddenly, Emma eyes her warily. “They’re not for sale, though.” 

Regina makes a sound that’s somewhere between a snort and a chuckle and Emma doesn’t really know what that means.

“Excuse me.” 

It’s amazing how a person’s face can go from amused to below freezing point in the blink of an eye. Regina looks up to the thief, who’s apparently chosen to leave the game behind, and turns to him.

“Yes?” she coolly says.

“Can I have your autograph?” 

Emma scoffs and withstands the urge to roll with her eyes as Regina says, “Sure,” and Emma hands the movie star a pen and a notepad. Regina scribbles something down and the wannabe thief smirks at her. 

“What’s your name?” the brunette inquires.   
  
“Rufio.” He puffs his chest a little to seem bigger and Emma can’t help but snort at his antics. Regina continues to write, folds the paper, and returns the pen to Emma. Their fingers briefly brush and it makes Emma almost draw her hand back too quickly.

“What does it say?” Rufio curiously says while unfolding the paper.

Regina eyes him briefly, before turning her gaze to the paper. “Here’s my signature. Above it, it says, Dear Rufio, you belong in jail.” 

Rufio pales a little and he puts up a smile. “Good one,” he murmurs. But he’s not done trying and Emma, who’s had her fair share of embarrassing herself, now realizes it can be far worse when he asks: “Do you want my phone number?”

“Tempting, but... no,” Regina says, raising an eyebrow. He finally takes the hint, raises his hand in a farewell gesture, and leaves the store. The brunette turns back to Emma, then down to the book she’s holding, and hands it over.

“I’ll take this one,” she says, putting the book that she’d chosen first aside, favoring the book that Emma had talked about. Emma grins. Small victories. She moves to get a paper bag. “Good choice,” she smiles.

She accepts the card Regina’s holding out, runs it through the machine and gives it back. 

Regina smiles politely. 

“Is it a gift?”

“Yes,” the brunette says, and Emma grabs the wrapping paper. Her experienced hands have the book gift wrapped in no time at all, and before she knows it, she hands Regina the paper bag with the present.

“Thank you,” she says, and Emma nods. 

“You’re welcome.”

Regina turns, and moves to the exit. She doesn’t just walk, Emma admires. She… glides. Regally. As if her feet barely touch the ground. And then, Regina opens the door and leaves without looking back, and Emma’s left alone with her thoughts. Holy shit. She wants to smack herself. Why couldn’t she just shut the hell up? Why do these kinds of situations always cause a word flood from her part? She groans internally. As usual, she’s made a fool out of herself. 

She moves to the shop’s front, staring out of the window and leans on the reading table in front of the window, when Belle comes in. 

“Here you go,” she says, handing Emma her coffee and her bear claw. Then, she frowns, because Emma seems to hesitate to eat. Emma never hesitates to eat. Belle’s perceptive eyes notice immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

“You won’t believe who was just in the store,” Emma says, staring out of the window again, quickly taking a huge bite.

“Who? Was it someone famous?” Belle looks excited, but then Emma just can’t get herself to say it. It’s like part of her kind of likes keeping this experience private and she wants to revel in it, in silence. So instead, she munches on her bear claw, swallows and then says, “A douchebag trying to steal Munchkins in his pants. I told him I’d Krav Maga him out of the store if he didn’t put it back.” 

Belle laughs, and toasts with her coffee. The hot drink is gone far too soon. 

“Another one?” she asks Belle, who nods. She needs to clear her mind a little bit, needs to process it a little more on her own. The short walk to the coffee shop will do her good.

“No wait. Let’s get crazy and have orange juice.” Belle quirks an eyebrow as a question, and Emma laughs with a nod as she exits the store for another run.

~*~

It doesn’t take her long. The coffee shop, which conveniently also sells fresh orange juice, is right around the corner, just across the street from her own house. Inside, she’s greeted by the owner - she’s a regular, and in this neighborhood everyone kind of knows and looks out for each other - and she places her order. After a little wait and a short talk to the owner, she exits the little shop and she paces back to the store.

At least, that’s her plan, but when she turns the corner, she’s bumping into someone, and both the orange juices splatter all over herself and the other person. “Oh shit! Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Emma says, dropping the cups and raising her head, and then she freezes when she sees who she’s bumped into. 

Crap. The holy moliest of craps.

“Idiot!” Regina spits at her, eyes ablaze. She’s dripping with orange juice, hands up, and Emma flinches before she apologizes again. “I’m sorry! Here, let me help you,” she offers, getting the napkins she got from the coffee shop and clumsily trying to clean Regina’s blouse.

“Get your hands off me,” Regina snaps, and Emma instantly pulls back, cheeks pink. It appears that nothing goes right when she’s in the vicinity of this woman, she acknowledges in despair. The ruckus causes some heads to turn, and somewhere inside her mind is a little voice that tells her that Regina probably doesn’t need the attention she unwantedly attracts right now. 

“Sorry. Look, uhm, I live just across the street. I have water and soap and, uhm, you can get cleaned up.” She feels horrible and it’s so typically  _ her _ to be clumsy like this.

“No thank you, I just need my car,” Regina says, trying to wipe some of the orange juice off her blouse. It doesn’t help much, quite the contrary in fact, and she wanders to the street, before she hesitates, looking up and down the block. There’s no car in sight.

“I’m too exposed here,” she then says.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. You’ll be out in five minutes, we’ll have you back on the streets in no time,” Emma says. Regina’s head snaps towards her and Emma raises her head in horror when she realizes what she just said. “In the non prostitute sense, of course.” She never learns, she groans internally, but Regina studies her for a few seconds, before there’s a hint of an almost smile on her face.

“All right, well… what do you mean, just across the street?” she then demands to know. “Give it to me in yards.”

“Uh, 18 yards?” Emma points at the building across the street. “That one, with the blue door.”

She waits as Regina huffs, thinks about it, looks at her shirt and then huffs. “Take me there.”

Emma does. Of course she does.

When she enters her house, her flatmate’s gone but not the intense pile of dishes he creates and leaves behind every morning. “I’m sorry, just give me-” And she rushes up the few steps that give access to her kitchen, stashing boxes and dishes and frantically trying to find a place to put them - well, the dishwasher will do just fine for now, she figures, and she opens it, throws everything in, and whirls around. Regina’s waiting for her and she smiles apologetically. 

“Haven’t gotten around to clean yet,” she murmurs, a little embarrassed. “But the bathroom’s upstairs. And left from the bathroom door is a closet with my clothes if you need some… Here, let me…” She sticks out her arms to take over the bags Regina’s carrying and Regina automatically hands them over, keeping only one, before she moves up the stairs. Emma closes her eyes when she’s realizing she’s staring at Regina’s ass when she moves up the stairs, and waits until she hears the distinctive sound of a bathroom door locking.

“Fuck,” she hisses, raising her hands to her head, entangling her fingers with her blonde locks. She grabs her hair tightly, not believing that Regina Mills is  _ in her house. _ Which parallel universe did she end up in? For a few moments, she just stands there, not believing what’s happening. 

Then, she springs into action and rushes back to the kitchen where she clears the counter, cleans it and makes sure the kitchen table is spick and span, silently cursing her roommate for being such a slob. 

Emma looks up when she hears a sound a few minutes later. First, her eyes only see slim legs descending and she gulps, before holding her breath, as her gaze moves up. She has to force herself not to whimper as she sees the cropped top Regina’s now wearing, leaving her midriff bare. Emma is suddenly very hot, blood coursing through her veins at an accelerated speed. Her face has turned a little pink in the process. Regina looks at her, eyes a bit narrowed, head slightly tilted as if she’s studying her. It makes Emma swallow hard, and she gets even more nervous. 

“Uhm, can I get you something to drink before you go? Tea?”   
  
“No.” 

“Coffee, maybe?”

“No.”

“Orange juice?”

Regina wrinkles her nose and frowns, and Emma chuckles nervously. “Right, probably not. Something else cold?” She moves to the fridge. “I’ve got some sugary energy drink.”

“No,” Regina says, looking at her with exasperating eyes. And yet, Emma being Emma can’t just shut up. She doesn’t know what to say, but does know that she doesn’t want this moment to end. “Do you always say no to everything?”

Regina thinks for a second, then answers, slightly amused this time: “No.” Then, she adds, “I’d better get going. Thanks for your…  _ help. _ ” 

Emma winces at those last words, but there’s a glint in Regina’s eyes. “Yes, of course. And uhm…” She hesitates, but then says it because hell, what else can go wrong? She’s made enough of a fool out of herself already as it is, so it doesn’t matter anymore what happens next. “I’ll just say this because I will probably never have the chance anyway, but it was very nice meeting you. You know, despite…” She makes a vague wave with her hand towards her own shirt, still soaked in orange juice. 

Regina tilts her head slightly, still observing her with those unreadable, dark eyes. “Thank you,” she finally says.

“You’re welcome,” Emma mutters. Then, Regina briefly squints as if she’s come to some kind of conclusion and then turns around towards the front door. Emma can’t do anything else but helplessly follow her.

Regina stops at the door and Emma catches up to her, hand on the doorknob. “This was nice. Surreal, but uh, nice,” she says, running a helpless hand through her unruly blond curls. Her mouth needs to shut up. Regina just looks at her pointedly for a few seconds, and Emma says: “Oh! Right,” and springs into motion by opening the door for her. The brunette doesn’t say anything and steps out. When Emma softly closes the door behind her, she deflates, pressure leaving her shoulders. And she can’t help but moan. “Really, Swan? Surreal but nice? What the fuck were you thinking?” She softly bumps her head into the front door a couple of times, and sighs deeply. 

She should get changed. Belle’s waiting for her and even though the mornings aren’t their busiest time, she also promised to get orange juice. Pulling away from the door, she turns to move up the two stairs leading to the kitchen, when the doorbell rings.

Huh, that’s weird. She turns again and opens it, and her eyes almost fall out of their sockets as she sees Regina Mills standing in front of her.

“Hello,” the brunette says with the tiniest of smiles, eyes hidden behind her sunglasses again. 

“Hi,” Emma breathes surprised. All this woman does is surprise her, she thinks. It’s deadly for her nerves.

“I forgot my other bags.” She points inside, and Emma exhales the breath she had unconsciously held. Strangely, she feels a hint of disappointment at those words.

“Oh! Oh, uh, right.” She turns and skips up the two stairs to the kitchen, and when she turns, she sees that Regina has stepped inside again, has closed the door and has removed her sunglasses. “Here you go,” she says, handing over the bag, hoping that Regina doesn’t notice that her hands tremble a little. It’s ridiculous. When she pulls back her hand she wipes her clammy palms on her pants.

Regina smiles a small smile which makes Emma’s heart flutter, and the brunette catches her gaze. Her brown eyes are warm, and something’s…. smoldering inside, Emma realizes. She’s hypnotized. For a few seconds, they simply stare at each other. There’s an intensity in Regina’s eyes that lights a fire in Emma’s belly, its warmth spreading out to all corners of her body, making it tingling all over. She feels how her face flushes, she shivers in anticipation and is unable to look away. She’s drowning in those eyes and she bites her lip, noticing how Regina's eyes briefly flick to her mouth upon the movement. Her heart starts to pound in her throat. The air seems electric and heavy, making it hard to breathe, at least for Emma, but it's not possible -

Before Emma knows what’s happening, Regina moves forward, wraps her hand firmly around Emma’s neck and pulls her close, pressing her lips firmly on Emma’s and Emma’s eyes widen in surprise first but then fall shut automatically, electric shocks pulsing through her body from where their skin and lips touch. The moment lasts and lasts and Emma feels the pressure of those warm, soft lips as they move over hers and and Emma’s blood sings, and she just  _ feels _ until the pressure gets lighter and then suddenly, Regina pulls back. Emma vaguely registers that Regina’s breathing heavily and they both struggle to regain their breaths.

Emma’s ears are ringing loudly and she has troubles swallowing. Her stomach squeezes almost painfully and she’s hot, so hot. She wants to lift her hands to her cheeks to cool off, but doesn’t dare to, because Regina’s staring at her. Then, a mild frown appears between Regina’s eyebrows and for a moment, she seems unsure. Emma wants to do everything in her power to make it go away again.

“Sorry about the ‘surreal but nice’ thing,” she blurts out without thinking. 

Regina tilts her head only a fraction. “That is all right, dear,” she says, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, “The orange juice suggestion was your absolute low point.” 

Emma snorts, which makes Regina’s smile grow a bit, but then it disappears. 

“It is probably... wise not to tell anyone about this,” she says, eyeing Emma carefully. Emma hasn’t even thought about sharing anything, but she nods anyway.

“I probably need to tell myself over and over that it happened, but I probably won’t believe it anyway,” she says, feeling a blush creeping up to her cheeks once more and she smiles sheepishly. For the briefest of seconds, Regina returns it, before she steps towards the door. 

And again, with a few quick steps, she’s vanished from Emma’s life once more. 

Emma, softly closing the door behind her, stays in the hallway, wondering what the hell just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title song: Faith Hill - This Kiss


	2. Here with me

The days after “This Kiss,” as Emma refers to it in her mind, are fairly uneventful. Part of her hopes that the moment was as mindblowing for Regina as it has been for Emma. She fantasizes that Regina returns to Once Upon a Time, on what their next meeting would be like - humble shop owner falls for a world famous movie star - but Regina does not come back and it’s probably for the best, too. Belle noticed something was off when she came back after “This Kiss”, but fortunately was content with the explanation that she bumped into someone, spilled the drinks, and had to go change. It’s true. It’s just not _everything_ that’s happened.

Only one time her heart pounds in her throat, and it’s when a bus passes the shop. On it, she sees an enormous portrait of Regina Mills, as a promo for her next movie. The intense gaze, the quirked eyebrow, it’s all too real now, and she stares at the bus until it disappears from sight. Her skin tingles with anticipation and she wipes her sweaty palms after, while trying to even her shallow breathing. She’s baffled about what an image can do to her state of mind. The rest of the day, she’s distracted. Belle carefully informs that she looks flushed and that maybe, she’s getting ill.

Of course she’s not, but it makes her aware of her own behavior and the rest of the week, she tries to act as normal as she can. It’s almost a relief that it’s Sunday now, she thinks while she stares at her ceiling. At least she doesn’t have to pretend. She’s still in bed at 10 AM, not willing to get up just yet. And her mind wanders to the somewhat worrisome events from last week, again.

Emma’s a foster child. She’s been in the system for as long as she can remember. She grew up in a lot of different group homes until old Granny Lucas plucked her from the street after having run from her latest group home, took her in at the age of sixteen, giving her at least some stability for the remainder of our youth. But because of the unstable environment, Emma’s put up walls around her. She doesn’t very easily let people in. There’s a few exceptions, a couple of friends she’s made along the way but it’s taken her a long time to trust them. To love them.

But with one kiss, Regina Mills has bulldozered her walls to the ground as if they mean nothing. She crashed and burned them, crawled under Emma’s skin, leaving her completely vulnerable, exposed, and _craving_ over someone she can never have. Because she knows that she means nothing. “This Kiss” probably meant nothing to Regina. That much she figured out already.

She googled Regina, after, because she’s never heard anything about Regina being into women, and -newsflash- she’s not. She’s in and out of short relationships after a broken engagement, but never with a girl. That excites and frightens her at the same time.

Emma desperately needs her walls back up, she thinks, still staring at the ceiling. She’s behaving like a lovesick puppy who’s craving attention. Walls. Walls are good. Walls have protected her when nobody adopted her. When Elsa left her. She likes her walls. They give her a sense of safety.

She’s brought back to the real world when she hears sounds coming from the other room, which makes her swing her legs over the bed’s edge with an irritated sigh. She needs to rescue her house from her sloppy renter. After her breakup with her long time girlfriend Elsa, she hadn’t wanted to move out of the house they’d bought together. With the fantasy store doing really good, she’d been able to buy Elsa out. And then, for some reason, she thought the house was a little silent and she’d gotten herself a flatmate. 

Normally she is a pretty good judge of character, but she didn’t know what had come over her when she had rented the guest room out to Killian Jones. He’s usually okay-ish company when he’s not talking about his next date or conquered woman, he’s got some difficulties with personal boundaries he’s just oblivious to the mess he makes - figuratively and literally. But like, really oblivious. He just can’t see it - how convenient ,she snorts. She’s the first one to admit that she’s not the tidiest person in the world herself, but he’s on a completely different level. However, she’s signed a lease with him for six months, so she’ll have to suck it up for another two. The man is a constant reminder that she’ll never rent out part of her house again

Until then, she has to save her house from him. When he leaves, she wants her house to still stand, even if it means that she has to pick up after him because even after telling him, hanging notes where he will definitely see them and yelling at him, he’s still oblivious to the mess he makes.

“Morning, love,” he greets her jovially when she comes downstairs. She cringes at the state of the kitchen as she flashes him a small smile, making her way to the coffee machine. At least he brews a decent coffee, she thinks by herself, before getting a mug of her own. She sighs, happy when the smell of coffee hits her nose, before she lets her eyes trail over him and frowns.

“Why the hell are you wearing that?”

He glances down at his clothes - a pirate halloween costume, and he shrugs. “Combination of factors, really. No clean clothes, and I was rooting around in a chest in my room that contained Halloween costumes and I found this and thought, cool.” 

She narrows her eyes. She bought that costume when she was still with Elsa, but hadn’t thought about it in a long time. “And there will be no clean clothes until you actually wash them, you know that right?” That’s where she’s drawn the line. At least he leaves his dirty clothes in his own room and his door closed - one must treasure the small joys in life. 

“Yes, I know. It’s a vicious circle,” he says, flashing her a smile. She rolls her eyes, sipping from her coffee, before she steps outside to her roof terrace. The morning breeze is pleasant and it refreshes her a little bit.

She sits down, while her eyes follow Killian as he settles on the brick wall that borders the terrace. “You look like Captain Hook in these clothes,” she mentions, and he sends her a dark smile. 

“Aye, love, don’t I look handsome? I’ll be sweeping you off your feet in a bit. After coffee.” He winces, squinting his eyes to the sunny sky while she rolls her eyes. “The rum wasn’t so kind last night.” He rubs his face with his hands. 

She shakes her head. He’s incorrigible on all fronts. “You seriously have a problem,” she comments, but he just waves it away. 

“By the way,” he says, after he’s taken a big gulp of searing hot coffee that must have burned his esophagus, “Speaking about Captain Hook, there was an odd letter shoved under the door a few days ago.”

She raises her eyebrows, waiting for him to elaborate. He doesn’t, so she sighs again. “And?” she urges.

He frowns as if he is trying to remember something specific, before he downs more of the coffee and says: “It was a white envelope, no name on it so naturally, I opened it.”  
  
“Naturally,” Emma repeated, rolling her eyes. Because privacy hardly exists with him around. Boundary issues. 

“Aye. And there was a small white card. I thought it was rather strange. Said something like, ‘Call me at the Four Seasons.’ Then, signed with an R. and some fairy tale character name.”

Emma’s eyes grow wide and she nearly chokes on her sip of coffee. “W-which was?”

“Hell if I know.” He shrugs, emptying his mug completely before putting it aside. "Can't remember everything now, can I?" 

Emma is suddenly feeling hot, and it’s not from the coffee. “Where’s that card?” she demands to know and he frowns at her. 

“I threw it out. I thought we were being conned and Killian Jones doesn’t let himself be conned.” He looks smug and she suppresses the urge to punch him in the face. 

She jumps up, starts to pace up and down the terrace. Holy crap, what does this _mean_ ? There’s only one person that she knows with an R that can actually _afford_ staying at the Four Seasons but she doesn’t know why she’d ever go out of her way to send a card. There’s a hotness burning inside her, and she almost feels feverish when she presses her hands to her cheeks.

“You didn’t think to check with me first? It- No, never mind.” She snatches her cellphone from the table, searches for the Four Seasons and presses the call button. Her heart pounds in her ears when her call is being answered by the reception.

“Yes, hi. I am calling for Regina Mills?” She sees how Killian’s mind starts to work. She gets up and starts to walk up and down the terrace, unable to stay still. 

“I’m sorry, we don’t have a Regina Mills staying with us,” the receptionist tells her with a cool, professional yet dismissive voice. Emma knows he’s dealt with people like her before. But this is different. She is different.

“Yeah, I know she probably uses a different name,” she sighs. “The problem is, she left a message which was picked up by my renter, who was stupid enough to throw the message out.”

The man at the other side of the line waits politely and Emma feels her frustration grow by the second. “Imagine living with the biggest moron you know, and then triple that image.” 

“Hey!” Killian protests, but she ignores him. “That’s the idiot I live with,” she continues, turning away from the pirate on the terrace.

“Try Cinderella.” Killian mutters.

“I’m sorry, what?” Emma whirls around and raises an eyebrow at him.

“I think the card said Cinderella. You know, the fairy tale.” He makes a vague wave with his hand as if everyone should know what he’s talking about. 

There’s a short silence while Emma tries to process this information. She realizes the receptionist is still waiting and comes to a standstill, back straight, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t - I don’t suppose…. uhm… Cinderella rings any bells?” 

“Oh. I’ll put you right through, ma’am.” 

There’s a click. Then, she hears waiting music and she jumps up. “Holy shit,” she cries out and from Killian’s face, she sees he’s finally connected the dots on who Regina Mills is. 

“Fuck, Emma, when were you planning on telling me-” 

But Emma hurries inside as the line’s being answered. “Hello?” 

“Hi!” Emma nearly chokes on her own breath. “It’s Emma. Emma Swan.” 

“Yes?” The husky voice, albeit being distant, cool and wary, causes a shiver to run down Emma’s spine.

“Uh- we… I own the fantasy store?” 

There’s a silence at the other side of the line.

“Miss Swan,” the brunette finally says, tone slightly warmer than before. “It took you quite some time to answer my message.” 

Oh.. no… well,” Emma stammers. She’s feeling hot, nauseous even as a knot is tied firmly in her stomach and automatically rubs her own belly. “If I’d known there had been a message from you, I definitely would have answered. It’s just… my flatmate, which I’ll stab to death later, never gave me the message.” 

“Hmm,” Regina only answers vaguely and Emma clings onto the fact that Regina hasn’t hung up yet.

“Maybe we can… I don’t know… meet up? I can come for, I don’t know, coffee later?” She holds her breath while she waits for Regina’s reply.

“I suppose so. I’m busy today, but I believe I can work an appointment around three at the Four Seasons.” 

“Right!” Her voice skips, and she clears her throat. “Right, great. I’ll… see you then?”

“Yes. Goodbye, Miss Swan.”

Regina hangs up and Emma stares at her phone for a full minute before Killian comes barging in. “That was a fucking message from Regina Mills? How the hell does she know where I live?” He runs a hand through his hair and tries to flatten it, rubs his cheeks and winces, since he has to shave.

Emma rolls with her eyes. “Not you, moron. Me. I met her in the store. Then, I accidentally threw orange juice over her so I let her clean up here.” She gives him the short version and his eyes are bulging. “She probably wants to thank me,” she lamely adds.

Swan, when you throw orange juice over someone, they don’t come back to thank you,” Killian snorts. Then, he wiggles his eyebrows. “So, what is it, then, a date?” 

Emma scoffs. “Why would it be?”

“Why would it not?” 

And a voice inside Emma starts to nag. Indeed, why would it not? “Because she’s a hot straight super famous movie star and I’m a fantasy shop owner in Hyperion Heights and we have nothing in common?”

Killian snorts. “Well, if she’s straight, you can bring her over here so I can sweep her off her feet.” There’s that wiggling eyebrow again, and it’s making her nauseous.

She makes a dismissive sound and starts to frantically clean the kitchen. “Pay attention,” she snaps at Killian while cleaning her cup, nodding to her hands, “maybe you’ll learn something from it.”

~*~ 

How do you dress when you meet up with a world famous movie star that stays at the Four Seasons? Emma doesn’t know. She doesn’t own anything remotely fitting. That’s why she settles for black pants, a white blouse and a formal blazer that hasn’t seen the light of day since she went to the bank to sign the papers for taking over the shop. It’ll just… have to do, she thinks, nose raised at her own image. She ignores the mess she’s made of her bedroom. It probably equals Killian’s right now, without the smell. She wrinkles her nose.

Emma leaves the house way too early, terrified that she might be too late, and takes the bus. She normally takes her yellow bug, but doesn’t know the area around the hotel - plus, parking fares are probably gigantic and the bus is a cheap option. She gets off near the hotel, stopping at a flower stall to buy some lilies. She doesn’t have a clue on what and if she should bring anything, but arriving empty handed feels wrong, for some reason. After paying, she continues her way to the impressive hotel. Her eyes flick nervously from the entrance to the Seattle Great Wheel that stands near the waterside, before she breathes deeply, straightens her back and steps inside the hotel. 

She feels immensely out of place when she walks up to the desk. “Hi,” she almost stutters, “I’m here to see Regina Mills? I’m Emma Swan… she’s expecting me?” 

“Of course, ma’am,” the receptionist nods politely after checking his books. “Take the elevator to the eighth floor, and then go to suite 815.” 

“Thanks,” she murmurs, before she turns around. She hurries to the elevator, pushing the elevator button frantically. It doesn’t matter that she has the room number of Regina Mills, that she has an appointment - she feels completely out of place in this overwhelmingly expensive hotel. Everything here breathes wealth, and even though she’s got nothing to complain, this is not where she belongs. Somewhere deep down, she’s still that orphan, owning only a duffle bag with her spare belongings.

When the elevator doors finally slide open, she nearly jumps inside and breathes a sigh of relief and when another person steps inside, she automatically steps aside. He nods at her, not unkind, and she gives him a polite smile back. “Eighth floor, as well?” she asks him, when he doesn’t make any moves to tap one of the floor buttons.

“Yes,” he says with a smile of his own, sipping his coffee.

They both get off the elevator at the eighth floor and he makes a gesture for Emma to go ahead when they need to take the same turn. Emma feels a bit uneasy when he’s also taking the same turn to the left after. 

And when she finally reaches 815, he’s still behind her. “Are you sure this is..?” she asks him, and he nods with an amused smile. “Yeah, yeah.. I’m sure.” Tentative, she knocks on the door, anticipation leaving her breathless even with the man standing behind her and then the door opens and - 

It’s not Regina.

Some blond woman with a clipboard motions them to come in. “Hi, I’m Kathryn. Come in, come in. We’re running a little bit late, I’m sorry.” She hands them a folder which features Regina on the front cover and leads them into a sitting room before Emma even has the time to process that it’s not Regina. “I’ll be with you in a sec.” Then, she’s gone, and Emma’s trying to hide her bewilderment at the scene displayed in front of her. There’s several people waiting, some with notebooks, others with laptops or smartphones, frantically typing. What’s this? Has she fallen through a portal and ended up in an alternate dimension? Wait - it’s not a dream, is it? She knows it’s ridiculous, but she pinches herself, hissing when it actually hurts.

Then, the blonde is back. “So, what did you think of the film?” she asks them.

The man rumbles something about a combination of Close Encounters and Star Wars and Emma blinks in confusion as Kathryn shifts her gaze towards her, expecting an answer. “I agree with him,” Emma musters up, as confident as she can. The guy catches her eye. He’s too intelligent, Emma thinks, and she feels how a blush starts to creep up from her neck.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get what magazines you were from,” Kathryn says. 

The man next to her - despite his knowing eyes, she’s eternally grateful to be able to follow his lead - says: “The Seattle Times. My name is August Booth.” 

Kathryn writes something on her clipboard, and raises her eyes to meet Emma’s. “And you’re from…” she asks, and Emma draws a blank, shifts on her feet and her eyes skim the room until they land on a pile of magazines. She reads the title of the one on top aloud. “Dogster Magazine,” she says. She exchanges a glance with the man next to her, and he purses his lips, trying to hide a small smile. She is still glaring at him, doesn’t want to back down, challenges him to say anything and his smile soon vanishes as he clears his throat. Emma turns back to the woman with the clipboard.

“My name is Emma Swan,” she then tells Kathryn, “I think… she is expecting me?” There’s a hint of restraint in her voice.

Kathryn doesn’t hear the restraint, as she is scribbling something on her notebook again, but she has heard the question. “Okay, take a seat and I’ll go check.” 

Emma feels a little relieved at that, and both her and the Seattle Times reporter move to a seat. “I see you’ve brought her flowers?” he motions to the lilies, observing her a little amused, and she grimaces. 

“Uh - no,” she says, laughing a little too hard, shifting uneasily. “ These are for my grandmother. She’s in the hospital closeby. I thought I could kill two birds in one stone, you know.” She shrugs, and meets his eyes. She’s always been able to spot liars but hasn’t mastered the craft of producing them. Especially not when she’s thrown in this dream-like scenario and has to improvise. 

The man nods thoughtfully, eyes flicking through the room before settling back on her face. “Clever. Which hospital is she in?” He closely watches her answer, head slightly tilted.

This whole situation hasn’t really panned out like Emma had thought it would. For the last couple of hours she’s mulled about how it would be like to see Regina again, imagined a variation of outcomes, but this is definitely not one of them. She feels how the web of lies closes in on her. But she can’t go back. Not with a journalist of the freaking Seattle Times.

“Uhm, it’s-”  
  
“Right, uh, Miss Swan? Will you come this way?” Kathryn returns to the room and Emma jumps up. She could’ve kissed the woman for saving her, but doesn’t, of course.

“Right.” She nods apologetically to the Seattle Times reporter, who smiles in return, as she quickly moves over to Kathryn. The blonde leads her a little bit into a hallway, before opening two double doors. 

“You’ve got five minutes,” she informs Emma and then she’s gone, leaving Emma pinned to the ground as she scans the opulent room, which is white with a lot of golden accents and there’s professionally arranged flowers everywhere. She clutches her own tiny bouquet of lilies. Talking about not feeling in place, Emma thinks, while her eyes move on until they rest on a small figure near the window. 

Regina turns around, arms folded, wearing a white blouse, buttoned up, a black pencil skirt, a dark blazer and endless heels of which Emma wonders how she can walk on those. She has to swallow a sudden lump in her throat. “Hi,” she says, and Regina smiles, moving away from the window towards the off white couch in the center of the room.

“Hello,” she greets back and butterflies are starting to flutter in Emma’s stomach. She looks from Regina to the flowers she’s brought. “I brought these,” Emma says, “but I guess…” she waves her hands at the arranged bouquets that decorate the rooms that probably cost more than a week’s profit from the store. 

But Regina stretches out her arms. “Oh, but I love lilies. Thank you,” she says. A small smile appears on her face when she studies the flowers.

“I’m sorry for not calling back,” Emma then blurts out, “The whole two-names concept was too much for my roommate’s pea-sized brain.” 

Regina looks up, quick to accept the apology. “It’s for my privacy,” she says. “I always choose a cartoon character when I book a hotel. The last time I was Ms Bambi. “

Emma grins and Regina lifts an eyebrow, looking amused, and then a door opens and both their heads snap towards the man that has just entered. He’s a bit older, slim, and has half long, pepper-and-salt colored hair. “Is everything all right?” he says, glaring at Emma, but Regina’s got her back when she smoothly answers, “Yes, thank you.” 

“And you’re from uh… Dogster Magazine?” He is still eyeing Emma with some suspicion and she feels how a blush creeps up her cheek, when she nods. He turns away but stays in the room, rummaging through some papers.

“Is that so?” Regina asks her, now with a somewhat amused glance in her eyes. “Well, then.” She gestures to the seat in front of her, before settling down on the couch herself. Emma’s eyes shoot from Regina, who’s raised an amused eyebrow, to the man with his back turned towards her and says, “Right. So, uh…” She sinks in the surprisingly uncomfortable chair. “Uh… I’ll just fire away then, right?” 

Regina nods. “Please,” she says, crossing her legs. Emma knows Regina’s teasing her, but she’s too out of place to give a proper snarky response back. And she can’t, because this guy is still in the room.

“Uh… the movie’s awesome,” Emma offers, trying to rely on her brain. Of course, it’s shutting down the moment she nearly panics. And these instincts of her she likes to rely on don’t do her much good. She wants to run, but alas. She can’t. “But what we kind of missed were the… dogs, you know? Did you ever think about including those?” 

The man snorts, and Regina’s eyes flick from him back to Emma. “Well,” she says with a smirk, sinking into the cushions of the sofa, “we would have liked to, but it was… difficult, obviously, the movie being set in space.” 

Emma returns the gaze, horrified. “Right. Space. Yeah, obviously very difficult.” 

The man leaves the room and Emma deflates. “I’m so sorry,” she says, feeling miserable, “I arrived outside and they pushed this thing in my hands, I didn’t-”

“No, it’s not your fault, it is mine. I thought we would be done by now. I’m leaving tomorrow, so my manager, Mr Gold, wants to rush this through.” She waves to the door, offers a small smile as an apology. “I just wanted to… apologize. For kissing you.” Regina watches her carefully, her eyes widening a little bit, showing her discomfort. “I seriously don’t know what came over me and I just wanted to make sure that you were all right… fine about it.”  
  
Emma’s brain takes a couple of seconds to process the softly spoken words. “Uh, yeah.. yeah, of course. Totally fine.” She blinks slowly, as the glance in Regina’s eyes turns to relief and Emma doesn’t know why she feels so disappointed. Because this is exactly what she had anticipated in all those ‘thinking sessions’ about “This Kiss”. But apparently, there was still some hope somewhere that it had meant as much to Regina as it had to her, but now she wasn’t so sure anymore. 

Mr Gold returns with a carafe of water, which he places on the table that separates the couch from the chair where Emma’s sitting. It’s a nice, almost natural barrier in the room between the journalists and the world famous movie star, Emma thinks. “Miss Mills would also like to talk about her next project,” he says, still eyeing Emma warily, “which is shooting late summer.” 

“Oh yeah, awesome,” Emma immediately answers, shifting her gaze immediately back to Regina. “Any dogs in that one?” Her eyes flash to the man, still in the room, who’s bent over his papers again. “Big or small, it doesn’t really matter. Our readers love a diversity of dog breeds.” 

Regina looks at her, deadpanned. “It takes place on a submarine,” she says evenly, and Emma frowns.

“Oh. That’s bad news for our readers. But eh…” Her brain has left her again. “If there were dogs in the submarine… would it be a tall one? Or perhaps a little one?” 

Mr Gold sighs deeply, goes for the door and disappears through it, and when the door’s closed again Emma deflates. “I’m sorry, I’m a complete idiot,” Emma murmurs, “I… this is the sort of thing that happens in dreams, not in real life. A nightmare, actually. The only thing missing is that I’m naked.” She looks back at Regina, whose lips have curved into the tiniest of smiles and then realises what she just said and she gawks in horror. “I- I mean, you know, those nightmares that you’re in front of a group of people wearing noth- no, never mind.” She runs a hand through her hair, a movement that Regina follows intently. “It’s good seeing you again, Regina, and that is actually the good part of this dream.” Her eyes flick nervously through the room and she misses how Regina’s smile widens somewhat.

“What happens next, in your dream?” Regina asks quietly, and Emma’s head jerks back. 

“I think, uhm,” Emma starts nervously, fidgeting with her fingers, “In the, um, dream… scenario… Well, if we leave out the naked nightmare part, I’d maybe walk over and uhm.. kiss the girl. But…” Her eyes lock with Regina and she returns the gaze with what Emma interprets as a welcoming glance in her eyes, and Emma’s heart starts to ram against her ribs, leaving her breathless.

“What’s stopping you in your dream?” 

Emma’s breathing heavily, heaving oxygen. “I…” she starts, still holding Regina’s gaze whose eyes turn unnaturally dark, reeling Emma in and she leans forward, tentatively closing a little bit of the distance over the salon table while Regina watches her, expectantly. The air is electric as she moves closer-

She jerks back as the door opens again and Mr Gold - she really hates him and his bad timing - steps in. “Time’s up, I’m afraid. Did you get what you wanted?” 

_No_ , Emma’s wants to cry, trying to steady her breath and her mouth answers, “Nearly, nearly.” 

“Well, one last question, then,” he says, while waiting at the door. 

“Sure. Ehm… Yeah. Right.”

Mr Gold closes the door behind him again, and Emma gathers up all her courage when she asks Regina: “Uhm, are you busy tonight?”

“Yes,” Regina answers, with a smaller smile and less emotion in her eyes than moments before, and Emma knows there only was a fairly small chance that Regina would’ve ever considered to go out with her. Still, she is vaguely disappointed.

“Right,” she answers, hoping her voice doesn’t show her feelings, and her eyes flick to the door as it opens again. Mr Gold is there with the next reporter waiting and the both of them rise at the same time. 

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” Regina says formally, extending a hand, and Emma grabs it without thinking. Electric shocks run through her hand where their fingers meet.

“Yeah, and you,” Emma answers, trying to ignore the tingles in her hand. Regina tightens her grip a little, and Emma looks up to her eyes in surprise.

“Surreal, but nice,” Regina adds with a smile around her face and her eyes spark a little and Emma can’t do anything but answer that smile.

“Thank you,” she says. With a wink, she adds, “You’re Dogster’s favorite actress, you know.” 

Regina releases a light laugh at that and Emma loves the sound, so she adds: “You and Lassie. Tied.” But Regina’s eyes shift to the newcomer and her face changes into her professional mask, and there’s nothing left to do for Emma to turn and walk out of the room, a bit dazed.

She hardly notices that she passes a man with a cellphone to his ears, up until the moment he grabs her upper arm and she whirls around in surprise. “How was she?” asks the man from the Seattle Times. August Booth, she remembers.

Almost automatically, she smiles. “Uhm, awesome,” she says, absentmindedly, still reliving the encounter in her head, and she starts to turn away when he calls her back. “Wait a minute,” August says, “What about your grandma’s flowers?” 

“Oh!” Emma says in surprise. She completely forgot her little white lie from before. “I must’ve forgotten them in the room. But someone else is now in there, so…” She helplessly waves with her hand. “I’ll just have to buy new ones, I guess.”

“Mmm,” August says, watching in amusement as she works her way through her story, “I guess so, too.” 

Emma smiles politely at him before she turns, but she can’t leave the room before Kathryn calls out her name, and she whirls around once more.

“Miss Swan, if you’d like to come with me, we can rush you through the others.” She curls her fingers to indicate that Emma follows her and asks with a confused frown, “The others?” while following Kathryn automatically. Kathryn leads Emma into a room and says to the dark skinned man in it: “Ms Swan is from Dogster Magazine.” 

Kathryn turns and leaves the room before Emma can say something and the man rises to shake her hand. “Did you enjoy the film?” and after that, Emma really hopes she is, in fact, still dreaming, because she experiences the worst hour of her life. The actor she meets first sees right through her and makes her life a living hell. Then, Kathryn takes her to the next one, while Emma quickly googles some interview questions on her phone and she asks the man if he identified with the character, and he answers that he didn’t, because he’s playing a rogue flesh eating robot. She asks the next actress, a ten year old girl if it’s her first movie, but no, it’s her 22nd. 

It goes downhill from there and after the fifth actor she’s spoken to - “Did you like your character development?” was answered with “I died in the first half of the film” - she tries to sneak out. But there’s no such luck. “Miss Swan,” she hears Kathryn say (the woman is like a hawk), “have you got a minute?”

“No,” Emma breathes unhappily, and Kathryn, already on the move, tilts her head with raised eyebrows. With her head hanging low, Emma follows her slowly, and Kathryn looks back to see if she does. She picks up the pace somewhat. The blonde leads her to a door she hasn’t been through yet an Emma braces herself, gritting her teeth for another humiliating experience, when the door swings open and there’s-

 _Her_.

Regina looks up, a small smile appearing around her lips, and she says, “Hello.”

"H-hi,” Emma stumbles, as Kathryn closes the door behind her. She tilts her head, observing Regina a bit warily, noticing she took off her blazer and is now only wearing a white blouse, of which she’s loosened two buttons, and the black pencil skirt. Her hair, previously styled straight, has now started to curl around the edges. She’s even kicked off her shoes, Emma notices.

Regina observes her for two seconds. “So, the plans I had tonight, I cancelled them.” There’s a faint smile around her lips. “I told them I had to spend the evening with an award winning journalist to talk about canines.” 

Emma blinks, but quickly recovers and grins. “That's… that’s great. Awesome,” she says. She doesn’t know what’s happening, but she’ll take it. “Let’s… oh, shit. Fuck.” Her face falters. “It’s my foster sister’s birthday. Shit. We’re having dinner at my friends’ place.” 

There’s a short pause. “Oh. Well. All right, that’s fine,” Regina slowly answers.

“No, no. I’m sure we can figure out something,” Emma says hurriedly, thinking frantically.

“No, I mean, if it is alright with you, I will just go with you. As your date.” Regina tilts her head a little as if she’s tasting the word. 

Emma’s eyes widen and she has to keep her mouth from falling open. “You… you’d want to be my date?” she says, disbelieving. “To my foster sister’s birthday party?” 

“If it’s all right,” Regina says, now with a mild frown on her face, and Emma’s quickly to reassure her.

“I’m sure it is. Definitely. My friend Mary Margaret is cooking and she’s considered to be the worst cook in the world but I’m sure you can, I don’t know, hide the food in your handbag or something?” 

Regina snorts. “Al right,” she says, and her eyes shimmer.

“Okay,” Emma repeats, and she doesn’t understand what’s happening. “I’ll, uhm, pick you up at seven, then?” 

“All right. Just let the receptionist call me when you’re here, and I’ll be down quickly.” 

Emma nods, unsure what to do, and raises her hand lamely. “I’ll do that. See you tonight.” She gives a faint wave, turns and flees the room - and the hotel altogether. But it feels like she’s walking on clouds, the entire way home. There's a tiny voice in the back of her head still nagging about the usefulness of walls, but she suppresses it relentlessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: Here with me - Dido


	3. Here and now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all your kudo's and comments so far, they really make me smile (and motivate me to finish the rest of the chapters).
> 
> Because I'm a dork I created a Spotify playlist for these title songs, which can be found here in a random order: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2gy6jjAd9i9DivfEedF2Wg 
> 
> Happy reading!

She’s told her friends, Mary Margaret and David, that she’d bring a plus one. They’d been delighted, because Emma hardly brings home any dates. Especially not after Elsa. She hasn’t told them who it is though, because she wouldn’t have had any peace anymore. If they would’ve already believed her in the first place. Because Emma still doesn’t really, herself. 

Besides, for some reason, Emma feels… _protective_ of Regina, even though she hardly knows her. When she thinks about it, they barely had any decent conversations so far. And still, there’s this connection. Regina must feel it too, Emma believes. Otherwise she’d probably never have agreed to all of this.

And now they’re on their way to Mary Margaret and David, in Emma’s yellow bug. Regina had raised her eyebrows looking at the car, but didn’t say anything when she got in. Emma’s nervous and makes an attempt at small talk - she’s not very good at it on a good day, and apparently, this isn’t one. 

“You’ll like them. They’re pretty likeable. They can be a bit over the place,” she mutters, “but they’re good people.”

“Emma, it’s fine,” Regina says, and Emma can’t get over how beautiful she looks. “I deal with people for a living. I won’t embarrass you.” She gently touches Emma’s arm, and instantly, Emma’s skin tingles. She’s happy with her red leather jacket to cover the goosebumps. 

“I’m not afraid of that,” she says, while parking the car, “I’m more afraid of me." Then, a short pause. "Okay, and maybe a little bit of them.” 

Regina raises an eyebrow and turns to her. “I’ve survived both your interview _and_ the trip in your yellow death trap on wheels, how bad can it be?” Her eyes shimmer with amusement and because of it, Emma’s nerves dissolve a little bit. 

“Hey, no insulting the bug.” She pats the car on the roof and whispers: “She didn’t mean it.” She flashes a smirk at Regina, who snorts and rolls with her eyes. 

She leads Regina to a small, two story house, and she inhales before ringing the doorbell. “Last chance to run away,” she hisses, but then the door swings open and Mary Margaret already vanishes into the house again. “Cooking emergency,” she cries out, “come in while I try to fix it!” 

“She’s burned the lasagna,” David says when they enter the living room, “She always does, but she never gives up trying, gotta give her credit for that.” He moves forward and extends a hand, which Regina takes and then studies her face, tilting his head. “You look exactly like-” 

“David, this is Regina,” Emma rushes to introduce her date - it’s still very, very weird to classify Regina as a date, and blinking dumbly, David shakes his head. “Pleasure to meet you,” he mumbles, before they turn to Mary Margaret, who’s pulled the lasagna out of the oven and inspects the burnt crust with a wrinkled nose. “We might have a late dinner, because I think I have to start over. Or we might want to remove the crust.” She inspects the lasagna with a wrinkled nose while pulling off her oven mittens, before coming back to Emma and Regina. 

“Mary Margaret, this is Regina.”

“Hi, Regina! -- Uh, Mills.” A flash of shock runs over Mary Margaret’s face before she corrects herself. “Have some wine?” she smiles, bewilderment on her face while she turns for the botte.

“Thank you,” Regina says and then offers. “If you want to, I can help you with your lasagna… when you decide you want to make it anew.” 

“You would,” Mary Margaret replies, sceptically. 

Regina nods, polite smile on her face. “My niece tells me it’s the best she’s ever tasted.” 

“Your niece,” Mary Margaret replies again, staring at the movie star in her house who’s just offered to cook, and it makes Emma a little uneasy. Then, the doorbell rings again and Mary Margaret, relief written all over her face, shoves them aside while making her way to the door. Emma looks at Regina, slightly amused (and a little terrified) but Regina just gazes back, a small smile on her lips.  
  
“There’s the birthday girl,” they hear from the hallway. There’s a few murmurs of Mary Margaret before a young woman comes waltzing in, arms spread widely. “Hey, guys, birthday girl has - oh, holy fuck!” She cries out when she sees Regina, freezing in her tracks.

Emma grins, stepping forward. “Regina, this is Ruby, my foster sister. Ruby, this is Regina.” 

Ruby just stares at Regina and it makes them all a little uncomfortable. “How the hell did you pull this one off?” she then barks at Emma. “She’s not an impersonator, is she? Is she wearing a wig?” Ruby’s hands move up to Regina’s hair,, who immediately takes a step backwards.   
  
“I can assure you, I’m not,” Regina says primly, and Emma automatically places a hand in the small of Regina’s back. She’s surprised that Regina leans into it a little, as if she’s looking for some support. 

“She’s your _date_?” Ruby shrieks at Emma, utterly bewildered.

“Uhm, yeah, she is,” Emma answers, and she feels how her face flushes.  
  
“I-I…” Ruby stutters. She turns to Regina, taking a step closer, and Emma feels how Regina tenses. “This is probably the most wonderful moment in my life. And I’m going to say this now because Emma messes up all her dates but I want to let you know that I am one of your biggest fans. And I just think that you’re the most beautiful person in the world.”

Regina’s eyes flash from Ruby to Emma and back, and then, having composed herself quickly, she says: “Thank you.” She reaches for her bag and gets out a little present. “Happy birthday, Ruby.” 

“Oh,” Ruby breathes, “You got me a gift.” She grins, eyes shimmering. “That means we’re friends already. Oh,” she says, quickly reaching over and patting Regina’s arm, “maybe I can help you with Emma. She’s impossible, but with some guidance you might even end up marrying her.”

Emma cringes, closes her eyes, only to look at Regina through her lashes. 

“I’ll... definitely think about it,” Regina answers Ruby with an earnest glance in her eyes. Emma sees how the professional mask slides over Regina’s face, revealing nothing, and she really doesn’t want her friends and family to fuck this up, so she scrapes her throat and says to Regina: “Weren’t you about to help Mary Margaret?” 

“Yes,” both Regina and Mary Margaret say simultaneously and the doorbell rings, saving Regina from Ruby for the moment. David leaves for the door, Mary Margaret directs Regina towards the kitchen and Ruby’s staying behind with Emma.

“Holy crap, Em! How’d you do that?” she hisses, and Emma grins, still a little uncomfortable.

“I basically tsold her a book and then hrew orange juice over her,” she mutters and Ruby’s eyes grow wide. “Listen,” Emma insists, “don’t make it weird, okay? I’m not sure what…. this is, yet. Let’s just have a nice time tonight and we’ll see what happens?”

Ruby nods and composes herself visibly. “She’s just a normal girl, right?”   
  
Emma smiles. “As normal as she can be.”

Ruby smiles a toothy smile. “No fangirling. Got it.”

David returns with Neal, who congratulates Ruby, punches Emma in the shoulder and shakes Regina’s hand. “I’m Neal,” he says, and Regina answers with her own first name. A silence follows and the atmosphere is a little tense and Neal looks at them, weirdly. “What’s up?” 

“Nothing,” Mary Margaret hastily says. “Wine?”

Regina actually takes over the kitchen and gets Mary Margaret’s apron, as she quickly and professionally prepares the lasagna. She talks to Mary Margaret on how it’s done, and Emma amusedly watches how Mary Margaret absorbs all the information. 

She hangs back a little, with Ruby. “Did you fuck her already?” she whispers, and Emma nearly chokes on her wine.

“Wha- I’m not even going to answer that question,” she mutters, swallowing hard, and Ruby laughs. 

“That means you already have,” she smugly says, and Emma shakes her head vigorously. The movement attracts Regina’s attention, and for a moment, their eyes lock. And Emma can’t do anything else but to smile dopily, even more when the smile’s returned.

“Oh god, you’re so done for,” Ruby mutters, punching her with her elbow, and Emma rolls her eyes, slapping her on her arm.

“I haven’t slept with her. She’s straight.”  
  
“Like hell she is,” Ruby mutters, “I’ve seen these glances between you. That is not the look of a straight woman.” 

Emma shoves her to the table. “Go open your presents, you asshole.”

Ruby laughs, and goes to do just that.

~*~ 

When the lasagna’s in the oven, Regina pulls off the oven mittens and the apron. Neal, grabbing some nuts from the counter, goes to stand next to them. “Thanks for saving dinner,” he says.

Regina smiles. “Anytime,” she answers, while sitting down in the chair next to Emma. Emma can’t help but drape her arm over Regina’s chair as Neal engages a conversation with her.

“So, Regina, what do you do?” he asks her.

For a second, Regina looks at Emma, eyebrow quirked, but Emma shrugs almost invisible.

Then, Regina’s eyes flick back to Neal. “I’m an actress,” she answers earnestly. 

“Oh, super cool,” Neal says. “I used to do that too! Well, not professionally. I dabbled in acting a bit. Done some amateur stuff. Nothing major, until the theater closed down. Hard world, showbizz.”   
  
“That, it is,” Regina agrees, amused. She finds Emma’s eyes again, who bites the inside of her cheek, wondering if she should save her friend but before she can decide, Neal continues to dig his own grave. It’s too funny to stop it.

“I hear it’s a tough job. Payment-wise, as well. I’ve got some friends who’re still trying to struggle their way from paycheck to paycheck.They’ve been in the business longer than you, probably earning only ten thousand a year. They have to work several jobs to survive.”  
  
“Wages can be scandalous, yes,” Regina says, more relaxed than Emma’s seen her before since they entered here. She’s actually leaning back now, against Emma’s arm. 

“So, what sort of acting do you do?” Neal inquires. 

“Films, mainly,” Regina tells him, and Emma can see that Neal’s impressed. 

“Awesome! Well done. How’s the pay in movies? Like, your last movie, what’d you get paid?” 

“Fifteen million dollars,” Regina says with a blank face. Emma looks away, unable to contain a grin on her face, and Neal just stares at Regina.

“Right. That’s, uh, fairly good.” He tilts his head, a little confused, not really knowing what to make of it.

Regina turns to Emma, touches her arm. “Can you tell me where the bathroom is?”  
  
“I’ll show you,” Ruby rushes in, and motions Regina to follow her. As soon as they’ve left the room, Mary Margaret and David quickly come over to her and Neal. 

“Quickly quickly, spill it, Emma,” Mary Margaret hisses, “What the hell are you doing here with Regina Mills?”  
  
“Regina Mills?” Neal cries out. “The movie star?!” 

“Shut up,” Mary Margaret tells him, while David hushes and then Ruby returns.

“What the hell, Emma? How’d you land that?”   
  
“Wait - so everyone knew who she was?” Neal asks, dumbfounded, and Emma laughs, Ruby slaps his arm and hugs him tight.   
  
“We still love you, Neal,” she grins.

When Regina returns it’s all fairly back to normal. The lasagna is almost ready and it’s the most pleasant birthday dinner Emma’s attended in a long while. Regina keeps a little distance, she’s more of the observing kind, apparently, but Emma genuinely has a great time with her friends and family. They share stories, memories, laugh, they act out - because that’s what they do when they’re together - and they all compliment Regina on her lasagna over and over again. 

“Best one I’ve ever tasted,” Ruby says, mouth full, “what’s your secret ingredient?” 

Regina looks over at Mary Margaret, who’s sitting next to her, and smiles tightly. Mary Margaret shrugs. “Don’t look at me, I know I’m a horrible cook and I’m really happy you saved the day, honey,” she says.

Regina’s smile turns genuine. “Well, the secret ingredient is pepper flakes. Gives it a little kick,” she says with a wink.

Emma looks at her, and their eyes briefly meet. Emma’s heart flutters. She feels so full of feelings - for her friends who are more like family, and for the way Regina eases into their company. It all… fits, she thinks.

After dinner, David sighs deeply, rubbing his stomach.

“Well, I’m full. Regina, having you here kind of confirms to me that we’re a sorry bunch of sorry ass losers,” he says, shaking his head, sighing dramatically. “It’s a great set of people to have around you, but we suck at success. I mean, you’re a great actress _and_ you can cook. Some of us can’t ‘even manage one of those.”   
  
Mary Margaret shrugs, but he jumps when she kicks him under the table. 

“Ouch.” 

“He’s not wrong,” Neal mutters sheepishly. “Not talking about the cooking,” he hastily adds, seeing the glare Mary Margaret throws at him, “but considering success. I can hardly keep a job so I’m currently self employed as an Uber driver in between shitty things I don’t even want to do. And because I’m in the car so much I eat out a lot, which isn’t really good for my chubby features.” He pats his belly. “And most of my female friends are gay or married, so I’ll probably end up miserable and alone.”

Ruby snorts. “If anyone’s the sorriest loser here, it’s me,” she states. “I’m twenty eight, still live with my grandmother and despite my degree in biology I work in a diner most nights because Granny doesn’t want to sell. Which basically means I hardly ever go out, except these nights with your sorry bunch, so I’ll never meet someone nice and I’ll wither and die at this very dinner table.” 

Emma grins and Neal shoots her a sympathetic glance, and Mary Margaret pats her on the shoulder. “Well, but at least you have that degree. I mean, look at Emma.”

“Hey!” Emma protests.

“Well, yes. Look at Emma,” Ruby snickers. “Separated, left with a house and a sloppy roommate who will destroy her house within a few months. Sucks at dating because she messes them all up. Super handsome once, but gets these little wrinkles around her eyes that are the beginning of her downfall." Emma scoffs. "Never really grew up, that’s why she owns a fantasy store. Absolutely certain never to hear from Regina again once she leaves this house, because she’s stuck with pathetic friends like us, who embarrass everyone right on the spot.” 

Emma rolls her eyes while the rest laughs, but looks at Ruby fondly, raising her hands in victory. “Fine, I win the sorriest ass loser award tonight.” 

“But, wait. What about me?”

Four pairs of eyes turn to Regina in surprise. “Wait, you think you’re the worst loser at this table?” David says in surprise. 

“Well, if it’s a title to earn, I can at least try, right?” Her eyes trail over the people at the table, linger on Emma momentarily, who smiles and says: “Well, sure, try, but I’m a hard one to beat at this game.”

"All right.” She hesitates only a second .“I’ve been... on a diet my entire life, so that means I’ve been hungry for thirty years. My mother is a very controlling and manipulative woman,” she explains when Mary Margaret softly gasps, “who wanted the best for me, she said, but mainly, she wanted what’s best for her. She drove my boyfriend away when I was nineteen and arranged a marriage with an older man for me instead, but on my wedding day I could get away. My mom disowned me immediately.” She breathes in deeply. “I’ve had a few boyfriends after that, but every time I get my heart broken, the newspapers pick it up immediately, displaying it as entertainment." She shrugs. "And I might be successful now, but one day, not long from now, my looks will go, people will discover that I can’t act, and I will become some sad, middle-aged woman who looks a bit like someone who was famous for a while.”

Her eyes wander off and stare in the distance, and Emma’s heart goes out to her. A silence settles over the table, the others are staring at Regina in sympathy. She’s not sure Regina's wanted to reveal that much, however, basically everything Regina’s done so far has been with deliberation. Still, she searches for Regina’s hand under the table, which makes Regina turn her head towards her and she smiles, but there’s a lingering sadness in her eyes.

“Nah, I’m still the most sorry ass loser,” Emma says lightly, breaking the silence, and Regina laughs with the rest of the table. Emma feels how Regina’s fingers shake a little, and she tightens her grip. “You’re nowhere near my league.” The rest of them agree vehemently, causing Regina to relax a little bit. And when Emma wants to release Regina’s hand, Regina tightens her grip, not wanting to let go. It makes the butterflies in Emma’s stomach flutter frantically.

Not long after dessert, they decide to leave. After saying goodbye and leaving the house - there’s some strange noises coming from inside after the door closes - they walk to the car, but Regina looks at it, and then to Emma. “Do you mind if we walk?”

Emma smiles. “You don’t trust my car after you've insulted her?” 

“No," Regina answers, smile tugging on her lips, "that’s not it. I just… I need some fresh air.”

Emma is more than willing to comply, not wanting to end the night just yet. And so they walk, in silence for a bit, both sunk into their own thoughts. Emma looks over at Regina, who’s wrapped her arms around herself and catches her eyes, smiling almost shyly. “You’re an orphan?”  
  
Emma shrugs, and puts her hands in the pockets of her blazer. “My parents left me at the side of the road, right after I was born. I had a foster family until I was three and they had their own kid, so they gave me back. I bounced around in the system until I was fifteen and found a foster mother who actually cared. Ruby’s grandmother took me in. They were good for me.” 

“Are all your dates disasters?” Regina asks next.

“Yeah, well,” Emma sighs, “Let’s just say being tossed around in the system isn’t really good for your mental state of being. One therapist called them abandonment issues. Makes it harder to be emotionally available, or something like that.” She shrugs.

Regina nods, and breaks the gaze. Emma says, “Your mother’s a piece of work, huh?”

The brunette scoffs. “I haven’t seen her in a very long time. She was very controlling. I am almost certain she bought off my boyfriend, but I could never prove it.” 

“And she married you off? Is that even legal?” Emma wonders. There’s a short silence following that question.

Then Regina quietly says: “Money opens a lot of doors. And mother was… insistent. Back then, I was vulnerable. And then, on the wedding day, when they were dressing me, there was this quote on the wall that said, ‘The first step to a new beginning is imagining that one is even possible.’ It resonated with me like nothing else ever had. And I basically…. walked out without looking back.”

“Wow. That’s pretty courageous.”

Regina tilts her head. “I haven’t looked at it as courageous.”

“Well, you should, because it took guts to leave everything behind.”

The brunette hums in return. They continue in silence for a little bit, until Regina says earnestly: "I don't think you're emotionally unavailable."

It takes Emma by surprise and she nearly trips. She feels Regina's hands on her arm to steady her. "Well," Emma says quietly, "that's because for some reason, you make it easy."

Regina doesn't turn her head to look at her, but Emma sees how Regina's features soften. “Are you free, tomorrow?” she then asks.

Emma’s heart skips a few beats, breath catches in her throat. “Weren’t you leaving tomorrow?” 

Regina’s mouth curves into a smile. “I was,” she says, not elaborating any further, and Emma smiles back. She hasn’t felt this happy in a while.

“Why a fantasy store?” Regina inquires after a little while. Emma smiles. “Well, several reasons, actually. Fairy tales were my escape, when I was younger. And I identified with the lost boys in Peter Pan, a lot. I guess it stuck with me.” She shrugs. “You can lose yourself in fantasy. You can be whatever you want, do whatever you want. It doesn’t have to be real. None of it is. So when I had the opportunity to create an, I don’t know, happy place in Hyperion Heights, I just took it.” 

Her eyes briefly flash to Regina’s face, who nods at the explanation. “To be honest,” Emma adds, “I’m still not really sure that this is real.” 

A smile tugs at Regina’s lips. “I assure you, it is. Very much so,” she says. And Emma’s heart somersaults.

They walk through Hyperion Heights. Contrary to popular belief, it’s not a very unsafe neighborhood, mostly because people really know and rely on each other. They usually rally together. The streets are quiet, lit by a couple of street lanterns. They pass the troll under the bridge, before they reach the community gardens. “We fought hard for this area to become a community garden again,” Emma says rather proudly. “There was this big ass developer who wanted to build some high end condos here, but we rallied together and stopped them. It also helped that apparently, there’s a super rare bird nesting here somewhere.” She grins.

“Let’s go in,” Regina says, immediately taking the path, leading the way through the line of trees surrounding the garden. The gardens are bigger than they look at first sight. From this end, it looks like a small forest before the trees part and give way to a sloping grass field, with here and there a few trees or plants to decorate it. There are trees kids can climb in, a few swings, and a couple of wooden benches scattered throughout the fields. Now, lit only by the moonlight, it almost looks magical. Some crickets chirp, and it’s the only sound they can hear. Emma follows Regina over the path, and when Regina stops and admires the beauty of it all, Emma comes up to her. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she quietly says, her own eyes trailing over the moonlit fields, and next to her, Regina sighs softly.

“It is,” the brunette murmurs, which makes Emma turn her head and her breath catches in her throat. Regina isn’t looking at the garden, but her dark eyes are intensely fixed at the blonde.

A shiver runs over Emma’s back before Regina’s hand cups her face and leans in. Emma’s lips start to tingle even before they touch Regina’s, and with a soft sigh her lips part, giving Regina’s soft, tentative tongue access. Regina’s encouraged when Emma eases into the kiss, trails Emma’s lips softly and then uses her other hand to draw the blonde close, while Emma turns her body completely towards Regina, hands on Regina’s hips and sliding up, traveling over her back. She feels dizzy, grabs Regina’s shoulders, a motion that seems to wake Regina up and she breaks away. 

Regina looks at her, head slightly tilted, eyes shining with something that Emma can’t entirely place and breathes irregularly. “Come on,” the brunette breathes, taking Emma’s hand and pulling her along, further inside the garden. Emma, still a bit dazed, follows her.

They barely talk, they just take a walk through the park, both reluctant to leave this place that shields them from the outside world. Emma sometimes takes the time to point out certain markers and Regina then listens intently, as if she’s absorbing everything Emma says. And when they cross the final field, they come across a wooden bench with a golden plaque.

“‘For June, who loved this garden. From Joseph, who always sat beside her,’” Regina reads. Emma looks at her face, sees longing and a sense of loneliness in Regina’s eyes before she closes them and says softly: “Some people do spend their whole lives together.”

Regina takes a step towards the bench, then another one, and almost reverently sits down, apparently lost in thoughts. Her fingers gently trail the inscription. Emma takes a step away, then another one, not wanting to disturb Regina’s thoughts.

“Come and sit with me,” Regina quietly says. Emma looks up, sees the vulnerable glance in her eyes, and slowly walks back before sinking on the bench. Regina’s fingers still trail the engravings. “What do you think that it feels like? To be together for so long, and still care for each other?” 

Emma smiles, and tentatively reaches for her hand. “It must be a wonderful, wonderful feeling, to have a happy ending like that.” 

They sit like that for a while, until it is time to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: Mel C - Here and Now


	4. Try

“Isn’t it a bit weird, to take a movie star to the theater?” Killian says the next day, when Emma’s frantically searching for her trademark red leather jacket.

“Well, she’s the one who proposed it. Apparently, less chance at being recognized,” Emma retorts, throwing the pillows off the couch. “Ugh, where  _ is _ it?!” 

“I hope you’re not going to see her own movie? Wait, have you even seen it already?”    
  
“Nope,” she simply answers, not really wanting to elaborate, before throwing up her hands in the air. “Never mind! I’ll get another one.” 

She runs upstairs, grabs a black blazer and runs downstairs. “Wait, is that the time already?” she cries out, “I’m late!”    
  
“Well, that’s not new, you always are, love,” Killian smirks, before turning back to his movie, series or whatever he’s watching on Netflix.

Emma snorts and races for the door, black blazer in her hands, before she turns. “Killian… It’s probably best to not say anything. To everyone, about this all.”

He shrugs. “Who’d ever believe me, anyway?” He turns back to the tv, and she leaves the house.

She reaches the theater right in time - Regina’s already there, of course. She’s wearing a summer hat and big sunglasses, keeps a bit to the shade, and she smiles reserved when they meet. “Hi,” Emma says, a little unsure how to react after yesterday, and Regina apparently feels the same way, because she’s shifting her weight a little nervously.

“Come, let’s go in.” Emma gallantly offers her arm and Regina doesn’t hesitate to take it.    
  
The movie’s nice enough - it’s not Regina’s, who quietly confesses she hates to watch herself on screen - and afterwards, they go for dinner in a quiet place near Regina’s hotel. They get a table in the corner, a little out of sight from most customers. After the waiter brings their drink orders, Regina observes Emma with slightly narrowed eyes. “So, who left who?”

“She left me,” Emma says.

“Why?”

Emma smirks. “She saw through me.”

There’s an amused glint in Regina’s eyes. “Oh, that’s not good.” 

“It wasn’t entirely her fault. I just have problems with trusting people. It takes me a long while to, I don’t know. Open up. I guess with Elsa, I never completely did and she got tired of waiting. I can’t really blame her.”

Regina hums and watches her intently before saying, “You look pretty open to me, now.”

The smile returns on Emma’s face, and her cheeks turn a bit pink. “Well,” she confesses, “It’s… easy, with you.” She said that yesterday as well, but it is. 

Regina returns the smile and opens her mouth to say something else, when a guy behind the loudely says, “You can give me Regina Mills every day.” Regina tenses, until she notices that she hasn’t actually been spotted. She tilts her head, and listens as the men behind her have a conversation about her.

“Nah, I didn’t like her last movie. Fell asleep as soon as the lights went out,” another guy says. Regina raises her eyebrows and looks at Emma, who shrugs.

“I don’t care what the movie’s about though. Anything with her in it is fine by me.” The guys laugh, and the women smile at each other. 

“You’ve got a point. Miss Mills, she has this twinkle in her eyes, right?” 

“It’s probably drug induced, though, probably spends most of her life in rehab anyway.” 

Emma almost snorts, Regina quirks a mocking eyebrow while the guys at the table laugh..

“Well, whatever. She’s so clearly up for it,” the man continues, and now, the light in Regina’s eyes dim a little. “You know, most girls like that, they just push you away. But Regina, she’s definitely up for it. She’s just asking for it with every move she makes.” More laughter erupts from their table. “Have you  _ seen _ that body?!” 

Regina narrows her eyes, clenches her teeth and Emma sees the frustrated powerlessness in her eyes as the man continues, after the laughs have subsided. “Do you know that in over 50% of the languages, the word for ‘actress’ is the same as the word for ‘prostitute’? And Regina,” he says, grinning, “is your definitive ‘actress’. Someone really... filthy who you can just flip over and start again.” The table roars with laughter.

Emma’s horrified, not only by what these assholes are saying, but also by seeing the effect their words have on Regina. She sees how Regina’s eyes get glassy, as if she’s remembering something she’d rather not want to relive, and Emma gets up.

It snaps Regina awake. “No, please don’t,” she mutters, but Emma already stalks over to the group of men. 

The guys are still laughing when she arrives. “Can I help you?” the one who’s just had basically said that Regina was a prostitute, and Emma says: “I just happened to hear your conversation sitting over there, unfortunately, because it made me lose my appetite. Because maybe you want to think about the fact that the woman you’re talking about is a real human being, and she deserves a little more than a bunch of assholes like you drooling over her.”

There’s a second of silence, and then the guy snorts. “Fuck off, little lady. Who’re you, her mom?” The group bursts out in laughter, and Emma opens her mouth to snap back, anger rising in her chest. 

Emma feels a hand on her arm. Regina, shielding her face a little, pulls her around and firmly guides her away.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Emma says, still mad. 

Regina shakes her head, face tight. “It happens. Thank you for trying. Once upon a time I would have done the same thing. In fact…” She stops in her tracks and whirls around on her heels, striding back to the table.    
  
“Hello,” she says, smiling, but in the most dangerous way Emma’s ever seen. She’s followed Regina, ready to step in if needed, but the group falls silent save for a muttered “holy shit” and they gape at the woman with the air of a queen, standing in front of them.

“I just wanted to.. apologize for my friend. She’s really sensitive.” 

The guy stands up quickly, fork still in his hand. “I, uh,” he stammers, but Regina raises a hand, silencing him with one wave of her hand. It’s like magic. Emma can’t do anything else other than admire her regal attitude.

“No, leave it. I am fairly sure you didn’t mean any harm. It was probably just some friendly banter, am I right?” she all but purrs. “I’m sure you have dicks the size of peanuts, but considering your sense of style,” she waves at their clothes, “you probably wouldn’t even know what to do with it anyway. But by all means, talk about it as if you know what you’re doing to uphold your image to your friends.” She nods at them while they stare back, dumbfounded. ”Enjoy your dinner, gentlemen.” 

She turns, strides past Emma who can’t do anything but follow and Emma feels so proud. She helps Regina silently with her coat, navigates her out of the restaurant and into the fresh air, where Regina just starts walking into the direction of the hotel.    
  
“I shouldn’t have done that,” she says, but Emma disagrees.

“Regina, that was amazing,” she retorts, “and the assholes totally deserved it.”.

“I am rash and an idiot,” Regina retorts, looking at her through her lashes, suddenly stopping in the middle of the pavement. “What am I doing with you?” 

“Uh, I really don’t know,” Emma grins, and shakes her head, suddenly a little cold. 

“I don’t either,” Regina smirks, but Emma frowns, now. “What’s wrong?” the brunette asks, suddenly a bit on edge.

“I wonder… What  _ does _ this mean to you? I, uh, well, googled you.” Emma smiles apologetically. “Last week, I mean, after you kissed me. You’ve never dated girls before, at least not that Google knows of.” 

Regina lowers her head and seems to think over the question. “There’s no simple answer,” she finally says, slowly, weighing every word. “I really... like you, never doubt that. No, I have not dated any girls before you. Not that I never wanted, but also because I… wasn’t allowed to.” 

Emma’s eyebrows raise up high. Regina notices. “My mother, my manager,” she explains. There’s a bitter taste to her word. 

“Then why, now? Your mother might not be in the picture anymore, but your manager still is. Creepy guy, by the way.” Emma shivers, and Regina smiles. 

“That’s why he’s so good at his jobs,” she smirks, but then turns serious again. “I guess… you make it easy,” she then replies, making Emma’s body tingle all over when she hears her own words directed back at her.

They’ve reached Regina’s hotel, and there’s a hint of regret in Regina’s eyes when she says, “Here we are.” 

“Yeah,” Emma says, feeling the same regret inside. “Well, look-”   


“Do you want to come up?” Regina asks suddenly, and Emma blinks a couple of times quickly to mask her surprise.

“Well, uh, there’s probably lots of reasons why I shouldn’t….” she starts, but her voice withers away.

Regina pulls up one corner of her mouth. “A lot of reasons, yes,” she agrees, “but… do you?” 

The butterflies in Emma’s stomach have evolved into angry bats, knocking the air out of her as they ram against her ribs as she all but breathes, “Yes.” 

There’s a light that flickers in Regina’s eyes,a hint of promise, when she says: “Give me five minutes.” Then, she’s gone.

Emma can hardly believe what’s happening, and she stares at her phone, willing the five minutes to pass quicker. She starts to pace up and down, while her insides are coiling in anticipation, before she steps inside the hotel, goes directly to the elevator and smashes the button. Holy crap, what’s happening to her? To them?

She almost wills the elevator to go up faster once she’s inside, It’s only a few floors, but still. Her heart is hammering against her chest when the doors ping and she can finally step out, hurrying over to the suite she was in just yesterday only now, she hopes wryly, with a lot less spectators.

Emma knocks on the door, the anticipation rushing through her as Regina opens the door and says, “Emma.” 

“Hey,” Emma murmurs, stepping forward, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. She grins at Regina. “It’s so great that I get to do that,” she mutters, until she sees the paleness on her usually bronzed skin. She’s instantly worried. “Regina, what’s wrong?”

“You must leave at once,” Regina hisses adamantly.

Emma is confused. “Why?”

“Because my… boyfriend, who was in Europe, is now, in fact in the next room.”

She blinks. “ _ Boyfriend _ ?” she gapes, and her heart stands still for a second.

“Babe, who is it?” she hears a male voice from the other room and a man comes in. Emma recognizes him instantly. Robin Locksley, another movie star. He is a handsome fellow, if you’re into that, Emma thinks, beginning beard, slim figure. He probably has to, making films and all. He looks at her with a frown while Regina starts: “It’s, ah, it’s-”

“Room service,” Emma comes in to save her. Thank goodness for the black blazer now. With her white shirt and black pants she might just pull it off. 

“Oh, right.” Robin looks at her, his eyes traveling over her body and she feels how her jaw tightens. “I thought you always wore these penguin suits?” 

“Well, yeah, we do usually. The men, mostly. The women can wear blazers,” Emma says with a straight face. “I was just on my way home, and I thought I’d take this final call.” 

“Oh, how splendid,” Robin says. “Can you take an extra order? I need some really,  _ really _ cold water. Still, not sparkling.”   
  
Emma stares at him as he removes his shirt. “Really cold still water, got it,” she repeats.

“Oh! And while you’re at it, can you remove those dishes and take out the trash as well?” 

“Right,” Emma says after a pause that only lasts two seconds, and she steps into the room to get the dirty plates.

“Oh, no, no, I don’t think that is her task to do,” Regina protests, extending her hand and retracting it when she realizes what she’s doing.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Robin says, moving closer. It makes Emma stand up tall as he looks at her. “What’s your name?” 

Emma eyes him warily. “Ruby,” she says, and he smirks at her.

“Now, listen, Ruby,” he says, grabbing her hand and putting in some piece of paper, “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” 

Robin turns and goes towards Regina, grabs her waist and pulls her close, pressing his lips on hers. Regina’s raised her hands, helplessly, not touching him when he pulls back. “Tell me, did you miss me? Good surprise or bad surprise?”

It takes Regina a full two seconds to answer. “Good surprise,” Regina murmurs, eyes flashing to Emma for just a millisecond and Emma feels like she needs to throw up, bile rising in her throat.

The guy laughs. “You’re such a liar, Regina,” he barks, and turns towards Emma. “She hates surprises,” he clarifies, before turning back to Regina again. “What are you going to order? With her?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Regina says, eyes on Emma again.

“Well, don’t overdo it,” he says, still in his shirtless state. “I don’t want people saying ‘There goes that famous actor with the big girlfriend, doesn’t she look a tiny bit like that actress?’” He laughs, turns and heads for the shower, closing the door behind him.

There’s a heavy silence between Emma and Regina. Emma feels as if her world has just shattered into a million tiny little pieces. “I should leave,” she says, more firmly than she feels. She grabs the dishes and the trash, and heads for the door. “I’ll have to go with surreal, again,” she adds. “Not so nice, this time around.” 

“I… I apologize,” Regina quietly says, her eyes shining with sorrow. “I wanted to tell you… I need to explain....”

Emma smiles. “I think…. that the situation maybe speaks for itself.” She raises her head, trying desperately to pull up her walls but, as always with Regina, failing miserably.  _ With you it’s easy _ , but it’s also damn hard to shut her out when she needs to.

“I don’t know what to say,” Regina murmurs. Emma clenches her teeth and raises her chin.

“Traditionally, you say goodbye.” 

Regina looks as miserable as she feels.  _ Good _ , she thinks. She doesn’t want to be the only one who feels like this. “Goodbye, Regina.” 

She turns before Regina can say anything else, and leaves the room. After ditching her goods at a real room service cart, she leaves the hotel, tears stinging behind her eyes. She runs a hand through her hair, scolding herself that she could have ever believed that something could come from this. That it might go somewhere. From the beginning she knew there had to be a catch. There was no way that a beautiful, sassy, renowned famous movie actress would fall for a regular nobody like herself. She’s never been good enough, so why had she expected a different outcome this time? She shouldn’t have.

And yet, it had felt different. It had felt real. She had felt this connection, a thin wire strung between them, pulling them together. Perhaps that’s what had made it easy for Regina to crash all her walls. It’s like the Trojan Horse. Weasel something valuable in, and destroy it from the inside. And that thought replaces the grief with anger. Emma feels betrayed, forced into the position of the  _ other woman _ which she never wanted to be. She’s angry at  _ her _ for not coming straight (oh, the irony of that word). 

She’s angry at herself for believing that this could’ve ever gotten somewhere. That she was anything else but someone to be used as a distraction. Maybe even for having just a good time. Well, fuck that. Regina had no right to treat people like that, no matter how rich and famous she was. 

She wanders through the city. It’s still early, so somehow she ends up in the movie theater, again, impulsively buying a ticket to see Regina’s movie. She hardly registers what the story is about, only sees the woman on screen, the woman who looks so similar to the one she just left at the hotel with her  _ boyfriend _ , and yet is entirely different and not just because of the role that she’s playing. Halfway through the movie she gets up, and leaves the theater. She can’t look at her anymore.

Instead, she goes home, curls up under her duvet and stares at the ceiling. There’s no tears, just a numbness, until she finally falls asleep from exhaustion.

The following days she is just heartbroken and she lives on autopilot. Emma opens the shop, manages the counter, takes inventory, smiles politely, until Belle sits her down in a quiet moment.

“What’s wrong, Emma?” she asks, genuine concern in her eyes. Emma looks away, stares out the window.  Belle sighs, touching Emma’s hand. “You’ve been… grieving for the past couple of days. I’ve never seen you like this before and I’m worried about you. Let me help.” 

Emma shifts her gaze, sighs, and then mutters, “There’s this girl.” 

Belle waits patiently, but when Emma looks her in the eye, she sees understanding dawning. “She’s someone who… can never be mine, I guess. For a little while, she was....” Emma chews her lip. “She was my drugs, and I can’t have it again.” 

“Oh, Emma, I’m so sorry,” Belle murmurs. Emma feels the sting of tears behind her eyes.

“It’s like, I’ve opened Pandora’s box, and there’s nothing but shit inside. Or a curse. I feel like I’m cursed. I knew that nothing good could come from it, knew that it would end badly, and I opened it anyway. And now, here I am.” 

Belle reaches over and pulls Emma in a tight hug, and Emma fights back her tears. “Go home, Emma, I’ll manage the shop. Take a little time.”    


Emma nods, numbly. 

~*~

She’s invited for dinner by Mary Margaret and David, joined by Ruby, who she tells the story in a matter of fact, monotone way. “Oh, Emma,” Mary Margaret breathes, eyes shining with tears for her friend, and David squeezes her hand. 

“You didn’t know she had a boyfriend?” Ruby asks her, and Emma shakes her head. 

“What, did you?” she murmurs, failed attempt at a joke.

There’s a quietness that prickles Emma’s nerves, and her voice is filled with disbelief when she asks, “Wait, you  _ did _ ?” She jumps op from the table, anger flaring up inside her belly. “I can’t believe this! I’m fucking heartbroken because I don’t read the tabloids and the gossip sections of the newspaper? Because I’m not stalking her on fucking  _ Instagram? _ ”

“Emma,” Ruby says, reaching for her hand. “Let’s face facts. This was always a no-win situation. Regina is… you know, a goddess.” Emma rolls her eyes, but Ruby continues. “You know what happens to mortals who get involved with the gods, don’t you?”

Emma knows. She owns a fucking fantasy store. The anger dissipates from her body and she deflates. Because she’s not hearing anything she hasn’t told herself already.

“But let’s not lose all hope now, shall we? Maybe I have the answer to your problems,” Mary Margaret says.

“Which is?” Emma asks, receiving a sympathetic glance from David.

“Well,” Mary Margaret says, “Her name is Aurora, and she works at the contract department.” 

It stifles a laugh from everyone, including Emma, and that’s how Emma reluctantly starts dating, under the watchful eye of Mary Margaret and David, to forget a certain brunette, who was way out of her league to begin with anyway.

Emma lets Mary Margaret take care of it all. The only thing she has to show up for the double dates Mary Margaret is organising at her own house. Some dates are nice, others are a complete disaster - she doesn’t even know where Mary Margaret finds some of these women. One of them isn’t even into women in the first place (but it’s one of the nicest dinners yet, without any expectations). The absolute highlight of them all is the fruitarier, claiming she believes fruits and vegetables have feelings, so cooking them is cruel. It does provide a nice addition to all of her horrible dating stories as of yet. Which also tells Emma that perhaps, she’s just not fit to be dating material at all. 

They try once more, with a nice brunette named Lily, who is well-versed, a smooth talker, funny and has endless legs, shimmering eyes and a wide, infectious smile. In another life, Lily could be her type, Emma realises as she sees her out at the end of the evening. “Maybe I’ll see you later,” Lily says, with a soft smile and a warm glance in her eyes, and Emma kisses her cheek.

“Maybe.” And they both know they never will when Emma closes the door behind her.

When she enters the living room again, and sees the expectant gazes of both Mary Margaret and David. “Well?” Mary Margaret asks.

“She’s perfect,” Emma sighs deeply, falling into a chair and running a hand through her blonde curls. 

“And?” David presses on.

There’s a short silence. “You know,” Emma slowly starts, “I think you’ve forgotten what an unusual situation you two have. To find someone you actually love, who’ll love you. Chances on that… they’re just insanely tiny, you know? I mean, look at me. Apart from… the  _ actress _ ,” she mutters, “I’ve only loved two girls, both total disasters.”   


“Emma,” David starts, but Emma raises her hand. “No, really. One of them wants to build a life with me and then leaves me, and the other one…” She turns to Mary Margaret, “marries my best friend.” She grins. “You should’ve known better.” 

“I still love you, though,” Mary Margaret says soothingly, but with a smirk. 

“I know you do,” Emma returns the smirk and for a brief moment she feels like her old self again, not the shadow she’s been in the past few weeks. But the moment doesn’t last, as she sighs deeply. “I’ll find myself, thirty years from now, still sitting on your couch, alone.” 

“Emma, do you want to stay the night?” David asks her, and she shrugs.

“Yeah, why not,” she sighs, “All that awaits me at home is a masturbating wannabe sailor anyway.” And so, she spends the night on Mary Margaret’s and David’s couch, lost in thoughts. Sleep doesn’t come for a while as she stares at the ceiling, long after Mary Margare and David have gone to bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song title: Pink - Try


	5. Bring Me To Life

It’s a couple of days later when, just as Emma’s preparing to leave her house to open the shop, the doorbell rings. It’s still early, Emma frowns, as she makes her way to the front door, and opens it, while running her fingers through her hair and - 

She blinks.

“Hello.” 

The air is knocked out of Emma’s lungs right away, and she feels like a fish gasping for air. It’s been six weeks and nothing’s changed about the way she reacts to this woman. Regina’s standing in front of her, dark sunglasses on and - surprisingly - trembling? Emma’s brow furrows.

“Can I… can I come in?” Regina sounds almost meek.

Emma automatically steps aside. “Yeah, sure,” she says hoarsely, and Regina quickly comes in, before Emma can change her mind. Thank goodness Killian has been out and the place isn’t a complete mess. 

Regina takes her sunglasses off, and Emma isn’t ready to see her red-rimmed eyes from crying, while the anger and frustration pour out of her. Without thinking, she grabs Regina’s arm and guides her to the living room. “Sit,” she tells Regina, planting her in the most comfortable chair available. Then, she retreats to the kitchen, calls Belle to ask if she can manage the shop today and heaves a couple of deep breaths to calm her heart, which slams into her chest painfully. She’d expected a lot, but not this.

She finally recovers from the shock and takes on a more active role. Emma grabs a glass and fills it with water. “What’s happened?” she says once returning to the living room and handing over the glass of water.

Regina narrows her eyes as she thinks it over before she starts talking, first quietly. “When I escaped the marriage my mother had nearly forced me into, she disowned me. I left, and I swore to never be dependent on her again. I was still very young.” 

She sighs, defeated. “I needed money to live. You might not believe it, but back then… I was very poor. I sometimes worked three jobs at the same time to be able to pay the rent. And then there was this photographer, who offered me money to have my pictures taken. They were working together with an agency that wanted to represent me, so I thought it was a win-win situation.” 

Regina’s eyes flash to Emma’s. “There were some… well, not nudes, but images that left little to the imagination.” She runs a hand through her hair. “However, apparently there was someone else that day, filming me as well. So that means that what started out as a photoshoot for the agency, now looks like a porn film.” Her eyes are now narrowed, and she’s brimming with fury, a vein pulsing on her forehead. “The pictures have been sold to the tabloids and are everywhere now.” She seems lost in her own thoughts, until she snaps out of it and looks straight Emma.    
  
“I… didn’t know where else to go The hotel… it’s surrounded by all sorts of media. The phones kept ringing, I wasn’t able to go outside without...” Her gaze turns hesitant, remorseful. “I know that it has been months, but…” Regina’s voice falters.

Emma never thought she would ever see Regina like this. The strong, ever-present, confident woman has been reduced to only a shadow of her former self. “This is the place,” she says, aching to touch her, knowing that she shouldn’t.

“Thank you,” Regina answers, grateful. “I’m only here for two days, and I promise I won’t draw any attention.” Her eyes grow distant again, haunted by memories Emma can’t see, and she stands up, starts to pace up and down. “These pictures, from the film reel… They look so awful. God, I wished I could…” Her hands ball into fists, the tension in Regina’s body is rising again. “If I could just get to the person who’s responsible for this mess. I would  _ end _ them.  _ Then _ , they’d have their publicity.” 

“Don’t think about it,” Emma replies, standing up now, as well, taking a tentative step towards Regina, who’s clearly trying to fight back tears of anger right now. “We’ll figure it out,” she gently adds. “You are safe here.”

For the first time since she’s arrived, Regina produces something that can be counted as a genuine smile.

~*~ 

Emma suggests that Regina takes a bath, and she does. In the meantime, Emma realizes that she’s fallen right back into that Regina hole. The feelings are all still there. They never left - they were just dormant right below the surface. Having her here, in her house again no matter what the reason is -- she feels more alive than she has felt in months. It’s unhealthy, she rationally knows that. And yet, there’s nothing she can do about it.

Then, Killian comes home. “Oy, love,” he says, “have you  _ seen  _ those pictures of your ex-girlfriend?” He throws a tabloid at her which prominently features Regina’s… well, assets, and she feels revulsion coiling through her body.

“I don’t need to see this,” she growls, shoving the tabloid away, “and sit down, because there’s something we need to talk about.” 

The relationship between her and Killian wasn’t fantastic to begin with, but ever since she told him she’s not going to renew his lease, things have gotten more difficult. He’s been pleading with her to stay, and she’s been unmoved by his words. She wants her house back. And he’s moping ever since.

She waits until he’s seated. “She’s here.” 

“Who is, now?”   


“Regina.” 

Killian just stares at her. “You’re joking. There’s no one here.”   
  
“She’s taking a bath, upstairs. I’d appreciate it if you could just leave her be, because she’s going through a rough time.” She glares at him.

“Well, uh, yeah, sure.” He snatches the tabloid away. “But I’m keeping this, though.” Then, he jumps up and vanishes upstairs. She rolls with her eyes. Two more weeks. 

Not long after, Regina re-emerges, a wary look in her eyes. “I met your roommate,” she comments. “He’s an… interesting character.”

“That, he is,” Emma says with a sigh, running a hand through her hair, “but fortunately, he won’t be my flatmate for much longer. Only two weeks to go.” She stands up, gets Regina some coffee and sits down with her at the dinner table. “Feeling better?”   
  
“A little,” Regina nods, and there’s almost a smile on her face. “Thank you.” 

They sip their coffees silently, for a while, air filled with unanswered questions that weigh on their shoulders.

“I feel like I owe you an apology,” Regina says then. Emma looks up, tilts her head to listen. “I mean, I- we...” Regina continues, uncharacteristically stuttering, “Robin, he… he just flew in. I had no idea. In fact, I had no idea if he was ever going to fly in again.” Her eyes are pleading Emma to believe her.   


Emma takes a big gulp from her coffee, which is still a little too hot, but she welcomes the burn in her throat. There’s so many questions to ask, so many answers to receive, that she doesn’t really know where to begin. But the fact that Regina chose this place to be safe, well, that must mean  _ something _ . 

Emma can wait.

“Well. It’s not all the time that you get the opportunity to clear the dishes and trash from not one, but two major Hollywood movie stars, right?” she mutters, half-joking, avoiding Regina’s eyes. “Uhm, so, how is he?”

“I don’t know,” Regina says. Emma’s head snaps back up, surprised. “Robin and I… it was never really real. We dated because our managers thought it would be good for both our images. But he… he always wanted it to be more than I did. So I ended it. I just… couldn’t keep up appearances, anymore.” 

Emma stares at her. “It was fake?”

Regina sighs. “Yes. Good thing, too, because every time I turned him and his… avances down, he’d seek refuge with someone else.” The glance in her eyes change to something Emma can’t define. “And I am not really someone who shares.” 

That’s information which leaves Emma’s eye twitching, while still processing the fake boyfriend thing. Regina tilts her head a little. “How about you… and love?” 

Abruptly, Emma pushes her chair back and stands up, moving to the kitchen counter. “Well, that’s a question without a very interesting answer which I’m not going to bother you with,” she says, turning to face the coffee machine, gripping the counter. 

There’s a few seconds of silence. “I have thought about you,” Regina says then, and Emma’s skin tingles when the goosebumps spread over her treacherous body. She shakes her head a little bit, trying to compose herself, and grabs an apple which she vigorously starts to cut into halves. And then again. “Hm,” she hums. 

“It’s just that… every time I have tried to keep anything normal with a person that was…. normal, it was an utter and complete disaster.” Regina’s eyes express a silent apology, but the words sting. 

“Well, yeah, thanks for telling me.” Emma’s stomach drops and she desperately tries a way to hide her disappointment. She wanted answers, right? There’s one, plain and clear. It’s just not the answer Emma was silently hoping for. She wonders if she has to challenge it, but  _ thought about you _ can mean many different things.

Later, Emma promises herself. There’s an uneasy tension between them when Emma returns to the table with an apple cut in uneven pieces.She sets down the plate and motions to the papers lying in front of Regina. “So, what’s that? Another movie script?” 

“Yes. I start in LA on Tuesday,” Regina answers, seemingly relieved with the change of subject. 

“Do you want me to help you with that? Read the lines with you, or something?” 

Regina tilts her head and narrows her eyes, as if she’s trying to figure out Emma’s intentions. “Would you? Because it’s all just… boring talk.” 

“Yeah sure, give it to me.” She reaches for it when Regina slides it towards her. “So, what’s it about?” 

“I’m a difficult but brilliant junior officer, who in about 20 minutes is going to save the world from nuclear disaster,” Regina says. 

Emma raises her eyebrows, while leafing through the script. “Wow, well done. Not many people can say that they’ve done that.” When she looks up, there’s a vague smile and a softness in Regina’s eyes that she hasn’t seen in a long time. She tries to suppress the hope that springs in her stomach, but she fails miserably.

She hopes. After everything, she still does. 

~*~

“Message from Command. Would you like them to send in the HK’s?” 

“No. Turn over four TRSs and tell them we need radar feedback before the KFTs return at 1900. Then, inform the pentagon we’ll need Black Star cover from 10.00 through 12.15.” Regina glares over at Emma. “And if you say one word about how many mistakes I made in this speech, I’ll pelt you with apples.” 

Emma smirks, raising her hand in defeat. “Very well, Captain, I’ll pass that on, straight away.” 

“Thank you.” Regina pulls up the corner of her mouth in anticipation, pacing up and down the rooftop garden. “How many mistakes did I make?” 

“Eleven.”

“Damn it. And Wainwright-”   


“Cartwright.”    
  
"Wainwright - Cartwright - whatever the hell your name is, I promised little Jimmy that I would be home for his birthday, so could you get a message to him, that I might be a little late?”

“Certainly. And, uh, what about little Henry?” 

“My son’s name is Henry?” Regina's eyes move towards her, exasperated.   
  
“Yup.” 

“Well… then get a message to him, too.” 

“I’ll do what I can, Captain, but I can’t promise anything -- And Cartwright goes.” 

Regina deflates with a sigh, and sits down in a chair - Emma notices that she never lets herself drop down in one, but there’s always this eloquent air around her when she sits. When she moves in general, actually. 

“What do you think?” she asks Emma. Emma tilts her head a little.

“It’s not normally the kind of movie I’d go to,” she says and shrugs apologetically. “I’m more a fantasy kind of girl. Hence the shop.” 

Regina looks at her intently. “Do you think I should do more fantasy, instead?” 

“Well, if you ask me, I think you’d be wonderful playing a villain with a background. You know, like…. Angelina Jolie as Maleficent. I believe, for one, you’d be awesome as Snow White’s Evil Queen.” Emma grabs an apple and throws it at Regina, who catches it easily. “I’ve never believed that she was only jealous of Snow White because she was prettier.”

“Hmm,” Regina hums, “Then why would she want Snow White dead?”

Emma shrugs. “Well, I don’t know. There must’ve been some history there. I don’t know, maybe Snow was just a spoiled little brat. Maybe the Evil Queen didn’t want to be Queen at all.” Emma shrugs again. “It’d be super interesting and with your regal attitude, you’d knock everyone dead.” 

Regina squints her eyes and looks at the apple intently. “I have… never really thought about that,” she says, and for a moment, she seems lost in thoughts. “Well. Who knows, maybe in the future.”   
  
“Who knows,” Emma smiles.

~*~

It’s an easy day. They practice Regina’s line a couple of times, have lunch, play a game - Regina’s obviously cheating her way through it and denies it with flair - talk about movies but not Regina’s, and, well, it’s just a great day. Emma tries to keep a little distance because of what Regina said before, about relationships with normal persons, but as Regina starts to relax more, opens up a little, Emma knows that resistance is futile. She’s head over heels, over the moon, completely and utterly in love with this woman. And she can never tell her. Especially not with the shitstorm Regina’s currently in. It wouldn’t be fair.

But all in all, it’s a fun day, a  _ domestic _ day, despite the fact that they’re both avoiding each other’s touch. Too complicated.

When the night falls, Emma leads Regina up to her bedroom. “You sleep here,” she tells Regina who’s about to protest, but Emma raises her hand. “I’ve fallen asleep on the couch many times. It’s very comfy. I want you to stay here. There’s clean sheets, so... “ She stops in front of her door and Regina stands next to her. 

“Today… has been a good day,” Regina says with a small smile, “which in the circumstances is unexpected.” 

“You’re welcome,” Emma murmurs. The air is electric, causing goosebumps to erupt over her entire body, she’s brimming with anticipation. Her eyes flick from Regina’s eyes to her lips. Regina notices, wetting her lips with her tongue, which makes Emma’s start to tingle immediately, and she bites the inside of her cheek and tries to inhale through her nose, before taking a small step back, trying to break the tension. “Uhm, sleep well.” 

Regina clears her throat. “Yes. Good night, Emma.” Her voice sounds huskier than usual. She looks at Emma for a little while, before stepping into the room. And all there’s left to do for Emma is to go downstairs and sleep on the couch.

She can’t sleep, though. She tosses and turns under the blankets, can’t get her mind to shut down and is filled with….  _ feelings _ . Her heart won’t stop ramming against her chest. Her ears won’t stop ringing. She just can’t… stop. Frustrated, she sits up, blinks into the darkness for a couple of seconds, then groans and lets herself fall back into the pillow again. Maybe she should try and read a book to relax. Meditate, or whatever.

The stairs creak faintly and Emma’s heart stops for a few seconds. Someone’s coming down. Her eyes grow wide. Holy shit. She barely dares to move as her heart rate picks up, her body burning with anticipation. “Hello?” she whispers.

“Hello,” Killian whispers back. Emma’s heart drops and anticipation is replaced by irritation immediately. She deflates, pinching her nose. “Killian,” she groans. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“We need to have a little chat,” he says. “I don’t want to interfere or anything, but she’s split up from her boyfriend. That’s right, isn’t it?” He points to the floor above, as if there’s more than one damsel in distress in the house.

“Maybe?” Emma says, not wanting to inform him of what Regina told her before.

“And she’s in your house,” he states.

“Yeah.”   
  
“And you get along very well.” 

“Yes.” 

“Well then. Isn’t this a nice opportunity to …  _ comfort _ her? A good shag always does wonders for my state of mind.” He wiggles his eyebrows and Emma snorts, rolling her eyes in disgust.    
  
“Really? Jesus, she’s in trouble, you asshole. Get a grip.” 

“Oh, okay, so no.” He lingers in the living room. “But if you don’t, do you mind if I-”   
  
“If I hear you anywhere near her room, I’ll screw off your balls with my bare hands, and I’ll feed them to you,” Emma snaps. Killian recoils and retreats, mumbling softly.

She drops into the pillows again, closing her eyes tightly, listening to the creaking stairs as Killian goes back up his room. The sound goes away. For a few minutes, there’s only silence. Then, the creaking resumes and comes nearer again. Jesus Christ, this guy’s insufferable. Emma groans. “My god, just fuck off,” she snaps.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” 

Even before she registers the words, Emma’s pushed the sheets away and shoots upright. “No!” she hurries, as Regina turns already. “No wait. I, uh, I thought you were someone else.” She grimaces. “Killian. I’m… well, very happy that you’re not him.” She stands up, closing the distance. Regina stands there, seemingly waiting for her, observing her as she comes nearer. Emma stops at an arm length from her. “Did you… did you need anything?”   
  
“No,” Regina whispers, blinking. Her face is vulnerable, without the make up she wore before, and her eyes flash with emotion. It’s going so fast that Emma can’t figure out what’s the matter, and then Regina lowers her gaze and continues, barely audible. “Or… well. Maybe… Maybe I need you.” 

Emma blinks at her stupidly, figuring that she must have heard wrong. But Regina just stands there, waiting tentatively, until it dawns on Emma that no, she didn’t hear it wrong, and she slowly steps forward, causing Regina to lift her head to face her. Regina watches her carefully as Emma raises her hands, cupping Regina’s face, slowly bringing her lips to meet Regina’s. Regina’s eyelids close. The air crackles almost audibly in the moment that their lips touch and when they do, both release their breath in a soft sigh. It’s like their bodies recognize each other and have been waiting to be reunited. Emma’s heart sings.

Regina’s hands are on Emma’s hips, barely touching, sliding up slowly, as their tongues touch and move in unison and Emma’s blood coils through her, her body aches for Regina, and she doesn’t really want to but she slowly pulls away while she still able to. She looks at Regina’s face, so vulnerable with her closed eyes, so beautiful, until her eyes flutter open. “Wow,” Emma whispers.

“What?” Regina softly asks, suddenly a bit hesitant.

“Nothing.” Emma softly caresses Regina’s lips with her own. “You are just… the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” 

Even in the half lit living room, Emma can see Regina’s cheeks flush. The brunette leans in again but Emma needs to ask, “Are you… Are you  _ sure? _ ” 

Regina’s eyes shine. She breathes unevenly when she takes Emma’s hands. The few seconds she takes to ponder and answer that question seem like an eternity but when she finally does, it’s like a release in itself.

“Yes,” Regina whispers, and she tugs at Emma’s hands, leading her towards the stairs. And even though Emma aches to touch Regina, they move up slowly, hand in hand. Regina’s nervous, Emma sees, and she vows that if there’s any part of the brunette that hesitates, Emma will stop. Even if it’s going to kill her.

When they’re inside Emma’s bedroom, Regina turns around again. Emma raises her hand, softly caresses Regina’s cheek, then neckline, and she leans over, placing small kisses on her jawline, slowly moving towards her neck. Her nose softly nuzzles the sensitive skin of Regina’s neck Regina gasps and shivers when Emma finds her pulse point, nipping softly. Emma’s hands wander over Regina’s back to the hem of her oversized shirt, waiting for a sign but when Regina presses her body closer to Emma’s, her hands slip under the fabric. Her fingers run over the soft, smooth skin of Regina’s lower back, making Regina whimper as Emma’s mouth continues to discover Regina’s shoulder.

Then, Regina suddenly steps away. Emma’s arms fall next to her sides when she sees how Regina turns to face the window, while she’s trying to get her own breathing under control. “Do you want to stop?”    
  
There’s no answer.

With her back towards Emma, Regina unbuttons her shirt and Emma watches how it slowly moves down over Regina’s body, until it’s lying on the floor. Regina’s body is lit by the moonlight. She looks like a goddess, Emma gulps, awestruck, and she steps forwards, raising her hand to reverently touch Regina’s shoulder. She stops when she notices how Regina stiffens.

“Regina?” she murmurs, waiting.

The woman stands completely still. “I have… I’m… I have never done this before,” she then hears the whisper. “Never… with a woman.” Her shoulders slump a little. Insecurity radiates off of her. 

“Don’t worry,” Emma softly says, reassuringly. “We are not going to do anything that you don’t want. And if you want to stop, we’ll stop, all right?” 

There’s a few seconds of loaded silence. But then, almost invisible to the eye, Regina nods and turns to face her. Emma’s breath stutters as the moonlight catches Regina’s full breasts. She looks like a fantasy creature in this light. Emma wishes she was a painter who could capture this radiating beauty and do right by the image, but she also knows that nothing can ever compare to the real thing.

“Can I…?” She says in awe, raising a hand, question lingering in the air.

There’s a tiny hesitation on Regina’s face, but Emma can see exactly when Regina yields. Even before she speaks the words, there’s this shift in her gaze. “Yes, dear,” she softly answers. “You may.” 

Gently, Emma places her finger on Regina’s collarbone and caresses the soft, slightly tanned skin. She smiles when she feels how Regina shivers. “You’re not cold, are you?” she murmurs, but Regina shakes her head. Emma’s investigating fingers trail Regina’s neck, face, jawline, before they move back to her chest. Her heart pounds in her throat and her chest feels full, so full of whirling emotions.

Looking up to meet Regina’s eyes, she sees how the brunette is studying her. Her fingers still. “Do you want to stop?” 

“ _ No. _ ” The sound is somewhere between a whine and a snap.

“Okay,” Emma smiles, eyes flicking to her hands momentarily before catching Regina’s gaze again. Regina’s face is wonderful to watch. Her eyes simultaneously narrow and widen when she  _ feels _ , and they gasp at the same time when Emma’s fingers run over her breast before they reach a hard nipple. Regina’s breath escapes with a hiss, and Emma feels how her own core heats up in responds. She softly kneads the breast, before moving to the other one. Regina whimpers and sways on her leg, and Emma ‘s hands move to her sides to steady her.

“Sit down, or lay down, whatever is the most comfortable for you,” she whispers, guiding her to the bed. Stiffly, Regina sits down on the edge of the bed, looking up to Emma. There’s arousal, desire, passion and… a hint of something she can’t read.

Emma kneels down on the floor between Regina’s legs. Her hands rest on Regina’s thighs and she catches Regina’s eyes, knowing that her own must mirror what Regina’s are showing. “Okay?” she asks again, and Regina nods. Emma hears how ragged the brunette’s breath has become and faintly notices how her own breath has accelerated as well. 

Emma’s hands go up again, to Regina’s breasts, and she hears her moan. She slowly brings her face closer, playfully licking the hardened buds, extracting another whimper from Regina’s throat, before both her hands and mouth dart to her belly. Her reverent touch is featherly light over the olive skin and the toned muscle, until Regina places her hand over hers. “More,” she hisses.

Emma complies immediately, adding more pressure to her fingers and she hears Regina gasp. Her fingers wander further down, tongue following closely. Regina’s breath stutters and quickens even more, and Emma gazes up to her face, questioning, when her fingers lightly touch Regina’s groin. 

“God, Emma,” Regina whines.

“What?” 

“Stop being so freaking  _ nice _ and  _ fuck  _ me. _ ”  _ Regina sounds almost annoyed.

Emma grins, almost proud that she got Regina to say the word ‘fuck’ in the first place. “As you wish, your Majesty,” she mockingly says before her fingers slip under Regina’s wet panties, and she gasps when she finds out how wet Regina really is. Touching the slickened folds, spreading them carefully, it makes her even more wet and she feels how tight her own chest is - it’s hard to breathe. And Regina feels the same, falling backwards on the bed, legs still dangling over the edge 

In one quick motion, Emma removes Regina’s panties and her eyes dart over the woman’s moonlit body, her chest, rising and falling quickly, as her fingers slowly find what they are looking for. She pushes one finger inside, and smiles when she sees how Regina’s body arches off the bed. 

“Hush, now,” Emma murmurs, slowly adding a second finger, eager to get the same response. She feels how tight Regina is and her own breath hitches. She softly blows at Regina’s clit, which makes her buck her hips again. Then, her thumb finds Regina’s nerve center and first slowly, then moving up the pace somewhat, her fingers move in and out of Regina’s pussy, discovering how she feels on the inside. She knows she’s already addicted to the responses she’s receiving.

“Oh.  _ Oh,” _ Regina says, lifting her head and Emma notices how her eyes widen. Her own breath quickens as she sees how Regina squirms, moans, sighs, she drinks in the vision of how the tension is building in the magnificent body laying before her. Then, with a cry, Regina comes and Emma nearly follows her by watching how orgasmic waves wash over the woman in front of her.

Regina’s thighs tighten around her shoulders, and Emma smiles as she slowly pulls her fingers back. It causes Regina’s hips to buck once more. 

“Oh, god,” Regina breathes while her limbs relax and grow heavy. “That was…” She falls silent, trying to regain her breath, and Emma smirks.

“Oh, but we’re not done yet,” Emma says as light as she can, and Regina’s head shoots up. Emma sees the flushed cheeks, glittering eyes and she thinks that this might be her favorite Regina look.

“W-we’re not? That was already…” Her voice dies when she looks into dark green eyes, and shivers when Emma carefully runs a finger over Regina’s groin and smirks. “Oh,” she says, “No… we’re clearly not.”

Emma lowers her head, presses soft kisses on the inside of Regina’s thighs. Licks her groin, fingers wandering over her other leg and Emma hears soft gaps whenever her tongue hits the velvety skin. She can’t get over how smooth Regina feels - it only adds up to her own arousal. But it’s not about her, not tonight, it’s about the beautiful woman in front of her. 

Her tongue moves to the center and they moan simultaneously - Regina’s even wetter than before, she notices, and Emma unfolds Regina with her tongue, swirling, darting, until she reaches Regina’s clit to which she’s been working towards. Regina’s hips buck as her tongue makes contact; Emma slides an arm around Regina’s leg to ground her. She feels how Regina’s hand searches her arm and as her breath starts to heave, her fingers tighten in Emma’s wrist. “Emma, Emma, Emma,” she chants and then, explodes. Her thighs close around Emma’s head, taking her breath away, and Emma can’t help but chuckle softly, proudly, at the powerful response.

When Regina’s legs relax, Emma slides up and lies down next to Regina, who’s shaking. Surprised, Emma sees tears on Regina’s cheeks. “Hey,” she softly says, suddenly worried, “What’s wrong?”

“I-I d-don’t know,” Regina stutters, turning towards her. Emma pulls her in her arms and Regina cries on her shoulder. Emma is instantly horrified that something’s gone wrong, that maybe Regina wasn’t ready. Did she misread the signs? Her stomach tightens. Oh, god, has she crossed a line? Her brow furrows and she scolds herself. 

“T-that… I’ve never felt something like that before,” Regina sniffs. “I didn’t know… it could be like this.” And Emma, once these words make sense to her, feels immensely relieved and senses how her body relaxes. 

“You liked it?”

She feels how the brunette smiles against her shoulder. “A lot,” she softly says. Then, Regina slowly rises, a little unsure. “Do I have to…” she starts, but her voice drifts away, eyes flicking over Emma’s body. Not that there’s much to see. Emma still wears her pyjama top and panties. 

“Not if you don’t want to,” Emma says with a smile. 

“But-” 

“Regina.” Dark eyes gaze up and Emma catches her gaze. “Not if you don’t want to,” she says, wanting the brunette to fully grasp her words. “It’s not a bargaining chip. This,” she waves her hand towards her, “is given freely. I don’t expect  _ anything _ in return.” She pushes herself up and cups Regina’s face. “Never think you have to give something back, because you  _ don _ ’ _ t. _ You don’t owe me anything.”

“All right.” She offers Emma a small smile when the blonde retracts her hands. “But…” She pauses, and Emma tilts her head.

“But what?”

“But what if I wanted to?” Regina sounds tentative, a small frown on her forehead.

Emma breathes in sharply, heat rising in her belly. Holy crap. Eyes wide, she finds Regina’s eyes again. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I think so. Can I… look at you? Without…?” She waves at the pyjama and Emma’s heart starts to pound in her ears.

“Of course,” she hoarsely says, reaching for the edge of the shirt, to pull it over her head.

“No, stop,” Regina sharply says.

Emma freezes, fingers on the shirt, and gazes at Regina, questioning. The brunette leans forward, a small smile around her lips.

“May I?” Slender fingers curl around her own, and gently pulls them away. She looks amazing, sitting on her knees in front of her, moonlight dappling her shoulders and hair. She grabs the hem of the shirt and pulls it up, up, up, over Emma’s head. Emma doesn’t miss the satisfied glance in Regina’s eyes when she feels her blonde curls tumble down her back.

“Oh Emma, you are so beautiful,” Regina husks, and her voice alone already erupts goosebumps over Emma’s entire body. “Your skin looks silver.” Then, she bends over to press a soft kiss on her chest, just above her breasts. The tentative kiss alone is nearly enough to make Emma come and she inhales deeply, nostrils flaring to get in as much oxygen as she possibly can to steady herself. 

It makes Regina smirk, and with a little more confidence, she softly pushes against Emma’s shoulder. Emma takes the hint, and lies down. Regina comes up, looks her in the eye, and places a kiss on her lips. Emma whimpers softly when Regina’s tongue lines her lips, before trailing to her ever so sensitive neck.

With every moan, whimper and sigh, Regina’s confidence grows. She nips, kisses and licks Emma’s neck and slowly makes her way to her breasts, while her hand slides down to her belly. Emma moans long when Regina teases her nipple with her tongue, before closing her mouth over it entirely, sucking at it, and at the same time, her fingers find Emma’s soaked panties.

The brunette momentarily lets go of the nipple as her eyes widen and she softly gasps, the moment her fingers dip in the soaked folds. “Oh,” she breathes, wide eyed, searching for Emma’s eyes and pausing her hand. Emma groans. “Don’t stop,” she hisses, raising her hips, and with renewed fire, Regina smiles, before closing her lips over the sensitive nipple again. Emma arches her back, pants heavily, as Regina’s investigating fingers find her pussy. She slides in a finger, then two, and Emma feels electric shocks erupting from where her fingers move inside her. It burns, she’s scorched all over and she whines. Her breath accelerates as Regina’s fingers pick up the pace. Tension’s mounting in Emma’s belly, growing desperate for a release, while Regina’s tongue still draws circles around her breast. And then, suddenly, Regina turns her finger inside around and Emma comes with a muffled cry, body shaking as her orgasm hits her in waves.

Regina keeps her fingers inside, still, as Emma rides out her orgasm against her hand. When she slowly returns to earth, she turns her head to face Regina. The brunette leans on one hand, amusedly looking at Emma’s sweaty, flushed face. Regina looks smug, intensely satisfied with herself, Emma notices, and she smiles weakly. Regina lifts her free hand to gently wipe a strand of sweaty hair off Emma’s forehead. 

“You liked that?” she purrs. She’s way too proud of herself.

“Oh god, Regina-” Emma starts, but then, Regina slowly corkshrews her fingers inside and Emma’s brain short circuits. 

“Let’s see if we can do that again, shall we?” she hoarsely says, but Emma hardly hears what she says anymore when her heart starts pounding in her ears again, thinking that this, she would not mind getting used to, and then Regina’s fingers twist again and she doesn’t think at all, anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title song: Bring Me To Life - Evanescence


	6. Stand Still, Look Pretty

Emma’s awake early, but she doesn’t mind. She watches the sleeping woman in her arms. Regina’s nested herself against her shoulders, arm draped over her belly, one leg over hers. Emma’s arm is around her shoulders, lazily tracing tiny patterns over her back.

Last night was… incredible. It’s something she had never imagined possible. And yet, here, nested against her shoulder, sleeps the most beautiful woman she’s ever laid her eyes on. 

Regina might not have had a lot of experience but she proved to be a quick student, reading Emma meticulously. Emma didn’t know her own body could handle that many releases, but it did, and after an hour of slumbering, another two were easily added. Regina, too, came a couple of times. 

Now, the brunette stirs lightly. Emma almost regrets Regina waking up, because she looks so peaceful when there’s nothing on her mind. It’s the first time she’s seen her completely relaxed. She can see exactly when dreams fade and reality comes in, because a small crease appears on her forehead.. Regina’s mind is always working overtime, Emma thinks, as eyes flutter open. Regina tries to focus and yes, there it is, the small frown between her eyebrows. Emma sighs softly, withholding a pout.  
  
“Good morning,” Emma whispers, pressing a soft kiss to Regina’s forehead. Regina seems to relax somewhat, but not entirely. Always on edge.

“How long did I sleep?” she asks, voice cracking. 

“Probably not long enough,” Emma smiles. Her arm is curled around Regina’s shoulders and her fingers still wander over Regina’s back. “How are you feeling?”

A small smile curls around Regina’s lips as she gazes up to meet Emma’s eyes. “Exhausted. Satisfied.” 

Emma chuckles. “That’s good. Same here.” 

Regina moves, turns around her body until she’s resting her arms on Emma’s chest, chin on her folded hands, looking at Emma intently. Emma’s hand returns to Regina’s back, drawing soft patterns on her mid back. Regina softly smiles and studies Emma, as if she’s searching for something. The small frown that disappeared for a few seconds is back, and Emma tilts her head in question. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing, I just…” Her voice drifts off.

“Tell me,” Emma presses, watching Regina’s face intently.

Regina is silent for a few seconds, contemplating her next words. “You know, Rita Hayworth used to say, ‘They go to bed with Gilda, they wake up with me’.” 

“Who’s Gilda?” Emma asks, not recognizing the name.

“Her most famous part. Men went to bed with the dream and they didn’t like it when they woke up with the reality.” Regina’s eyes are watchful. “Do you feel that way?” 

Emma’s hands, still trailing over Regina’s back, still as she hoists herself up a little bit. She can’t understand why a beautiful, strong, confident, hard-working, self-made woman like Regina, is so insecure. “Regina,” she says softly, “You are more beautiful this morning than you’ve ever been.” 

Regina’s eyes shine and the combination with her tousled hair does things to Emma’s heart. Regina lifts her head, presses a small kiss on Emma’s lips, and rolls away. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” She pulls on a robe and goes downstairs. Emma falls back into the pillows, not really knowing what she did to deserve all of this but she feels happy, so happy in this bubble they’ve created in this house. The outside world is just there - outside - and it feels like they don’t need anything but each other.

Regina returns ten minutes later, carrying a tray that contains some toast, fruit, juice and coffee. Emma’s eyes brighten when she catches her sight. “Breakfast in bed,” she says while Emma pulls herself up in surprise. It can’t get any better than this, can it?

“I’ve never had a famous movie star bring me breakfast in bed before,” Emma says with a lazy smile, “I think I can get used to it.” 

“Who knows,” Regina replies, returning the smile. Then, it disappears. She’s thinking about something, Emma knows, and she waits for Regina to tell her what’s going on, nibbling on a piece of toast. 

“Do you think I could stay a little while longer?” Regina asks. 

Warmth spreads through Emma’s body as one corner of her mouth pulls up in a lopsided smile. The blonde searches for Regina’s hands and when their fingers lace, she softly says: “Stay forever.” 

There’s something in Regina’s eyes that Emma can’t describe, but she knows that she means it. She wants this to last. Even if it’s just a bubble, she wants to stay in it for as long as they possibly can. They eat their breakfast in silence, occasionally feeding each other a piece of toast, stealing kisses in between, until most of it is gone and Regina lifts the tray to carry it downstairs.

Then, the doorbell rings, and Emma suppresses a groan. Regina quirks an eyebrow in a silent question. “I’ll clear the tray, you answer the door,” she says, disappearing towards the stairs.With a sigh, Emma reaches for her tank top and rummages through her closet, finding some red panties to wear, before following Regina and heading for the front door.

She opens it.

And is immediately blinded by tens, no, hundreds of flashing lights. Camera shutters are clicking relentlessly, reporters are fighting over the best spots, their voices rise in unison and Emma recoils in horror as a hurricane of noise hits her. “Holy shit,” she breathes, shutting the door with a bang. She’s in shock and leans towards it, panting. How the hell did they figure it out? 

“What is it?” Regina says, appearing in the doorway, and Emma looks at her, eyes haunted. But Regina misinterprets, and comes closer. “Is it for me?”   
  
Emma steps forward to keep her from going to the door, but Regina avoids her easily. “Regina, no, please,” Emma begs, but it’s too late as Regina opens the door, takes one look at the sea of reporters and flashing lights out there and slams the door, horrified. For a second, they look at each other. Then, Regina blinks. 

“My god. And they have a picture of you… dressed like that…” Her eyes flash over Emma’s body in shock, register the tank top and red panties, and then flick back to Emma’s face, appalled as it starts to dawn what this means. 

“Yes,” Emma murmurs, because it’s true. 

Regina turns and bolts up the stairs, leaving Emma behind. When she follows Regina up, she’s already calling someone.

“It’s me,” Regina says, urgently. “The press are here. Hundreds of them. My brilliant plan was not so brilliant after all.” She sighs, impatiently with what she hears at the other side. “I know. Just… Come pick me up.” She hangs up, and turns to grab her clothes as Emma enters the room.

She feels the hostility immediately. The bubble, the one she so desperately wanted to stay in not even thirty minutes ago, has already shattered. The outside has come inside and there’s this nagging voice in her head, saying that happiness isn’t forever. That nothing ever lasts. She pushes it away, because she can’t give up. Not after everything they shared.

“Regina… how are you doing?” 

“How do you think I am doing,” Regina snaps, grabbing her pants from the floor, sitting down while angrily pulling them on. 

Emma takes a step back at the venom in Regina’s voice. “Listen, I don’t know what happened.” 

“Well, I most certainly do,” Regina growls, “Your… roommate probably thought he could earn a couple of dollars, telling the papers where I was.” 

“You don’t know-” 

“Don’t I?” Regina says, forcefully pulling on her shoes. “The press of the entire West Coast got up this morning and thought, ‘I know where Regina Mills is. She’s staying in that backwards neighborhood, Hyperion Heights, in that house with the blue door.” She slams her feet on the floor, grabbing her bag. “And then _you_ go out in your freaking underwear.” Her voice has raised and she’s spitting out the words, one by one. “It’s an unbelievable mess.”   
  
“I’m sorry,” Emma says, but Regina’s not done yet, as she grabs her toothbrush and stuffs them into her bag, along with some cream and her toothpaste. “I come to you to protect myself against more crappy gossip, and now I have just landed in it all over again. They don’t even know that I’m into women, and now there will be pictures of you in every newspaper from here to Timbuktu!”

She’s outraged beyond reason, Emma thinks. “Let’s stay calm,” all right?” she says, voice slightly raised as well.

“No,” Regina snarls, teeth bared, “You stay calm! This is the perfect situation for you, isn’t it? Minimum input, maximum publicity. Everywhere you go, people will say, ‘Oh, well done, Emma! You slept with that actress. _We_ saw the pictures.” Venom drips from her voice. 

Emma recoils momentarily because of the vile accusations, but anger rises quickly enough. She is not going to be accused of things she hasn’t done - she’s got her pride. “Now, that’s completely unfair,” Emma snaps back. She’s heard enough, knows she’s not the one to blame, and she’s definitely not going to let Regina get the best of her.

“Maybe it’s even good for your business,” Regina continues with a bitter undertone, unstoppable. “Buy a fantasy book from the girl that fucked Regina Mills.” She grabs her bag and leaves the bedroom. 

“Jesus, Regina, will you stop this?” Emma’s angry now, as well, while she follows Regina down the stairs. “You’re being a complete asshole. I don’t deserve this and you can’t just go around throwing accusations because you’re hurting. None of this is my fault.” Regina doesn’t say anything in return and just descends the stairs in a hurried way.

The doorbell rings again and Killian, who’s woken up because of the shouting, eyes them carefully before throwing a look out of the window. “Seems like a town car. Chauffeur and all.” 

They both ignore him as they continue downstairs, towards the front door. “Regina, wait,” Emma says, grabbing her by her arm,blocking the door in the process. Regina whirls around on her heels, eyes red rimmed and flashing with rage. “Can’t we just both calm down? I don’t want to fight. Let’s talk about this. Put it … in perspective?”

“Miss Swan,” Regina sharply says, anger burning in her eyes, “You’ve dealt with this shitstorm for about ten minutes. I’ve lived it for fifteen years now. My reality differs from yours. Our _perspectives_ are very different.” She turns for the door.

“Fine, I’m the first to admit I don’t know shit what you have to deal with,” Emma snaps back. “But I also know that right now, you’re running away. From something that will be forgotten tomorrow. Regina, today’s papers will be used to wrap fish in tomorrow. They’ll be gone, then! Just wait it out! Everyone’s forgotten about this in the morning.” 

Regina stops dead in her tracks and narrows her eyes, darkness coiling and twisting inside, as she tilts her head to look at Emma, who slightly recoils at the darkness in Regina’s eyes. “You really don’t get this, do you?” she growls darkly. “Do you not understand what you’ve just _done,_ by neglecting to wear simple pants when you opened that god damned door? You might have just ruined _everything_ I’ve worked for in the past fifteen years.This story will be filed. Every time _anyone_ writes _anything_ about me, they’ll dig up these pictures. Newspapers last forever.” She narrows her eyes, her voice vicious. “I’ll regret this, _forever_.” 

Emma’s heart stops, as her eyes lock with Regina’s. The darkness in Regina’s eyes fades a little, as if she’s shocked about her own vengeful revelation. Rationally, Emma knows Regina’s hurting. That she lashes out in the most painful way possibly.

Emotionally, she realises Regina succeeded with flying colors. Because it hurts like nothing’s ever hurt before. Emma raises her chin, refusing to back down and show how Regina’s words affected her. 

“Well, if that’s the case, Miss Mills,” she says coldly, “ then I am _truly_ sorry for fucking up your precious image. I’m glad we finally get to see your true colors in the end, so we both know where your priorities lie, _your Majesty_.” She mockingly makes a reverence, and steps away from the door, anger radiating off of her, while Regina’s vile words continue to burn their way into her now bleeding heart. “Clearly, it’s not with me, but with your impeccable facade.” 

Emotions are churning in Regina’s eyes - for a second, Emma thinks she sees hurt flickering in those dark brown pools - and it seems that the brunette wants to say something when the doorbell rings again. She yields, while Emma folds her arms in front of her chest and nods at the door. Regina’s face goes blank and still when she reaches for her sunglasses, turns and opens the door without another word. Then, the noise enters the hallway while a bodyguard shields Regina from the hungry troup of reporters diving towards her. Emma closes the door and locks it behind her.

Then, her knees give way, and she sinks through them, landing on the stairs leading up to the kitchen. She rubs her arms, suddenly cold, as a hatch inside her soul seems to close and lock forever. Numbly, she stares to the blue front door, seeing nothing. The air feels empty, as if Regina’s taken everything in it with her on her way out. Her lungs are stinging and she has to breathe shallowly in order to keep the black spots from appearing in her peripheral vision.

Killian peeks around the corner. “Is she gone?” he asks, and Emma buries her hands in her hair, inhaling through her nose, exhaling through her mouth.

“Was it you?” 

There’s a short silence. “Well,” Killian says. “I hooked up with a cute redhead who claimed to be a reporter. But there was a lot of rum involved. Can’t really remember.” 

“Jesus, Killian,” she growls. “I _specifically_ told you not to tell anyone! Did you get paid for your information?”

He doesn’t answer, but when she looks up she can see the answer on his face. God damnit. Suddenly, she’s done with everyone. “Please leave.” 

“Yeah yeah, I’m sorry,” he grumbles, while he turns towards the stairs, “I’ll let you cool off for a bit.” 

She raises her head, anger coiling through her veins.  
  
“You misunderstood., I mean permanently. Leave. You have today to pack your things and go.”   
  
“Now, love, I still have two weeks and that’s not completely-”   
  
“You don’t want to find out what I’ll do when you’re still here tomorrow,” she says darkly, and with those words, she goes up to her room.

She’s angry. Not just with Killian. Okay, maybe the most with Killian because he’s directly responsible for the fucking mess she’s in. But also with Regina, who throws everything away in a flash of, what? Panic? Having to step out of a fucking closet? 

God damnit, she doesn’t deserve this. And worst of all is, part of her even expected this to happen. It’s like Ruby said, months before. Get involved with the gods, and you’ll crash and burn when you’re thrown from the sky.

She should’ve known. She tried to keep her distance. But Regina’s reeled her in like a fish on a line, nowhere left to go but to her. The moment she was standing in front of the door, Emma was done for. It only took her to show up, a shivering mess, and despite all Emma’s best intentions, she couldn’t stay away. Not if her life depended on it.

“ _FUCK!_ ” she shrieks against the bedroom door, grabbing the hairbrush and smashing it into the mirror, which breaks in a million tiny little pieces. Good. It resembles her insides.

~*~ 

The next couple of days she’s still somewhat hoping that Regina will show up to apologize, and then Emma can apologize, or that she might leave a message but as time passes, Emma realizes that it is not going to happen. She’ll probably never hear from her again. And it feels like she’s being stabbed in the back, all over again. It’s never been her fault, she knows that. Regina, who lashed out in anger and panic, is the one who walked away, but she can’t shake the feeling that irrationally, it maybe _is_ hers, because after all, she’s the one that rented out a room to Killian.

The house is empty now. Killian left within a few hours, and she hasn’t heard from him since. The stuff she’s found when she meticulously rage-cleaned the room that was once his, she threw out. 

She welcomes the silence of her house. It gives her space to wallow in self pity, shriek out in fury whenever her anger gets the best of her and cry about everything she’s lost in peace. And if it wasn’t for her store, she probably would’ve curled up inside a blanket, never leaving her house anymore. But Once Upon a TIme drives her out of bed every morning and gives her a routine. Get up. Get dressed. Walk to the store. Drink coffee with Belle. Open up. Help customers. Take inventory. Close up. Go home. Go to bed. Cry of either fury or grief into her pillow until she falls asleep. She’s on autopilot between being angry and heartbroken. 

Had it all been a lie? Sometimes she wonders. They’d fallen into an easy pace together so swiftly, so naturally, that she never really stopped to think about how fast their…. whatever it was, had evolved. But had it even been real? To Emma it had. And she doesn’t really want to answer that question with a positive answer, not while Emma had talked about abandonment issues and Regina just piling up on those - Emma wonders if Regina ever thinks about that. And so, she’s left to brood on her own. In the silent, lonely comfort of her house with the blue door, where once upon a time, magic happened.

It’s kind of ironic, when you think about it. She’s always been the one afraid to commit - that’s why Elsa left her, in the end - and now she finally found a woman she desperately wants to commit to, opens up to, the woman turns out to be a version of Emma’s younger self - a runner. Because it doesn’t matter _why_ Regina can’t accept it, it only matters that she doesn’t. 

Autumn comes, then winter. All days blur together into one. Sometimes, one of her friends drag her out of the house for dinner. Especially Mary Margaret and David are quite skilled at doing so. Mary Margaret has started to mother over her, and surprisingly, that is a comforting feeling. 

Then, one day, when spring is starting to arrive, Ruby barges into the shop, closely followed by Neal. “Emma! I have something for you. Something that will make you love me so much you’ll want to hug me for the rest of your life.” 

Emma smiles politely, leaning against the counter. She wraps her arms around herself. “What is it?” 

Ruby digs a small paper out of her pocket. “I’ve got the phone number of Regina Mills’ agent here on the West Coast.” Her eyes shimmer. “Neal’s found a hidden talent in investigating things. Maybe he can become a private detective.” She looks behind her for a bit and Emma sees how Neal’s face flushes, before Ruby directs her eyes back to Emma. She stretches out her arm, and out of duty, Emma takes the piece of paper out of her hand. “Listen, you think about her all the time. Now you can call her!” she says, excitement shining in her eyes.

“That’s awesome, Ruby, Neal,” Emma forces a smile, “Thank you, so much.”

“I’ll see you tonight at Mary Margaret’s, yeah?” She bounces right out of the store again, Neal following in her wake. Emma’s eyes drift down, eyes scanning the piece of paper, faintly registering the numbers. 

She looks around, eyes trailing the shop’s furniture. A long time ago, she told Regina that fairy tales were an escape. They were. Now, the stories are taunting her. Happy endings don’t exist. True love doesn’t exist. Fairy tales aren’t real. It’s just a figment of everyone’s imagination. An escape to go to when the real world sucks or hurts like hell. But what if you’ve lived a fairy tale, for just a few days, and it’s ripped out from under you? Where do you escape, then?

She scoffs. Love is weakness and it hurts like hell. She was a fool to briefly indulge the feeling that it might be possible. And look what it’s done to her. What it's still doing to her, if Ruby and Neal feel obliged to find her a solution. And she promises herself that she will conquer this. She will stop this numbness inside her, one way or the other. She will probably never get over Regina, not really, but she _has_ to try and give it a place, somewhere deep down inside. She has to start to try and live again. 

Slowly, she stretches out her hand, until it’s above the paper bin. She lets go of the piece of paper, which whirls down until it nests securely between the rest of the paper waste.

She never makes the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song title: Stand Still, Look Pretty - The Wreckers


	7. Sweet Curse

Spring slowly turns into summer and the weather alone improves Emma’s mood. She does her best to go out, see her friends, pick up some volunteer work in the neighborhood, and it seems to work. 

The shop is thriving - Emma doesn’t want to think about the fact that maybe, that has something to do with the press attention of almost six months prior, she sometimes gets this weird looks - and she even hires another help. Mulan’s a mystery to her, but she’s a hard worker. Also, she’s into martial arts and can even fight with a sword, which comes in super handy when the neighborhood organizes a fair. To promote the shop, Mulan offers to sword-fight with props against random challengers, which results in a new influx of people in her store and Emma expanding her set of props. 

Apart from that, Belle and Mulan are making moon eyes to each other, which sometimes makes Emma roll her eyes when they’re awkward around each other, until one day, just after Mulan’s left, Emma grabs her arm.   
  
“Go after her.” 

“What?” Belle asks, wide eyed.   
  
“You like her, don’t you? Go after her. Ask her out.” 

“But-” 

"No buts. I'll close up. Go."  Emma looks at her, sternly, and sees the conflict on Belle’s face.  Then, she seems to make up her mind and straightens her shoulders, before she marches out. “Go get your girl,” Emma shouts after her, and she can’t help but laugh as Belle hurries from the shop.

A day later, when she's about to open Once Upon a Time, the two enter together, cheeks flushed and fingers laced, and Emma can only grin at them and they sheepishly smile back. Her heart squeezes wistfully, but she’s genuinely happy for them. And maybe it's good for her, as well, seeing happy people. At least, that's what Belle and Mulan are doing right now. Making her happy.

She still has biweekly dinners at Mary Margaret’s and at the following one after Belle went after Mulan, Emma realises that she  _ is  _ feeling better. She laughs freely at one of Ruby’s jokes about Mary Margaret’s cooking abilities, a constant factor returning during their dinners. “It’s a wonder we still come here every week,” Ruby complains, “Ouch!” 

Mary Margaret has kicked her under the table. “Well then, I suggest you’ll prepare dinner next week, then,” she suggests sweetly.   
  
“It’s a wonder that you are still doing this twice a week,” Emma says, “With all the comments we make. And it’s actually not a bad idea, to take turns.” 

Neal snorts. “If you’re going to cook, we’ll only eat grilled cheese sandwiches,” he grins, and Emma shrugs. Nothing wrong with that.

“I’m not hearing any alternatives from you, you ass,” she playfully shoots back.

Mary Margaret waves everything away. “I really don’t mind. We all know you don’t come here for the food. I just like mothering over you all. You’re like my babies,” she grins, and David sits upright.

“We were going to have  _ one  _ kid, not four at the same time,” he cries out, leaving the three others stunned. 

“Oh, crap, what?” Emma blurts out as she does the math, and Mary Margaret and David look at each other in a silent conversation, clearly holding hands underneath the table, and she gasps as there’s a softness on Mary Margaret’s face.

“I’m pregnant,” she says, a happy smile on her face, “but this wasn’t really the way I wanted to tell you.” She glares at David, who looks pretty remorseful. He leans in and wraps an arm around his wife’s shoulders, pressing a kiss on her temple, and she leans into his embrace. 

Emma jumps up to squeeze them both in a hug. “That’s wonderful news,” she says, “Congratulations.” The other two are quick to follow, and when they’re all seated again, Mary Margaret rubs the corner of her eyes. 

“Well,” Emma says lightly, “that does mean that we have to vacate the premises for our dinners in a few months.” They all smile wistfully. Mary Margaret assures them that nothing is changing for at least a couple of months. “And Emma has this house all by herself. Neal has an apartment. Ruby, your grandmother has a diner. It’ll be okay.”

Then, she sits upright as she closely watches Neil and how he casually drapes an arm around Ruby’s chair. She narrows her eyes and her gaze finds Ruby, who shoots upright instantly.

“Is there something the both of you need to tell us?” Mary Margaret inquires, squinting.

Neal abruptly pulls his arm back and they both flush. Now, Emma is paying attention as well. “Neal? Ruby?” Mary Margaret says, and Ruby scrapes her throat.

“Well, we’ve kind of been dating for the past two months,” she says, reddening even more, and Neal slips back his arm around her waist in a protective gesture. Ruby’s eyes shoot towards Emma. “We didn’t want to be insensitive-”    


“You’re not,” Emma assures them quickly. “I’m happy for you. Actually, I’m kind of thinking how this hasn’t happened before.” Ruby seems to relax a little, and Emma continues, “I also have a confession to make. I feel that I should apologize to everyone for my behavior of the past six months.” David reaches for her hand, which she gladly takes in moral support. “I just… I’m doing better. And I intend to become insanely happy in the future.” The smile she sends out is a little forced, but she’s met with sympathetic glances.

“We’ll find you your happy ending, Emma,” Mary Margaret says, eyes soft. “Don’t give up hope, honey. Your perfect match is definitely out there.” 

Maybe, Emma thinks, forcing a smile at these words, but her happiness shouldn’t depend on a woman. She’s got a thriving business, a great set of loyal friends, and maybe that’s just enough. 

It just has to be.

~*~

Later that evening, Ruby and Neal walk her home. Neal’s taken Emma’s arm and hooked it through his own, while holding Ruby’s hand with the other. “So, you’re over the famous girl, are you?” he asks her, and Emma smiles up at him.

“I believe I am,” she answers, and she almost believes it herself. 

“Oh, okay. Well. Then you probably won’t be distracted from the fact that she’s back in the area, and currently to be found filming, most days, in Richmond, near Vancouver?” 

Emma inhales sharply. Richmond is only a two hour drive from Hyperion Heights, and a shiver runs down her spine. She feels the earth shift below her feet and trips, tightening her grip on Neal’s arm in the process. “No no no,” she murmurs, and Ruby smiles sympathetically.

“So, not really over her then,” Ruby murmurs. She exchanges a glance with Neil that doesn’t go unnoticed, and Emma groans internally. Grabbing her phone, she quickly googles Regina and sees that filming will end in two days. Maybe she can-

Suddenly, Ruby’s on her other side, gently prying the phone from her fingers. “I know what you’re thinking,” she says, squinting at Emma.

“Yeah? What’s that?” Emma mutters, while Ruby takes her other arm.

“You’re contemplating getting your car and driving over there right now.” Emma sighs and wants to say something, but Ruby isn’t done. “And I’m not sure if that’s the wisest decision, Emma. Not now you’ve finally recovered somewhat.”

“It’s the worst decision ever,” Emma agrees without hesitation.

“And yet, you’re still planning on going,” Ruby says discontently. Emma stops walking. 

“Hey, weren’t you the one who went out of her way to get me phone numbers of her agents?” she says, a little cranky now. 

Ruby smiles, lopsided. “I was. Because at the time, I thought they were going to help you and you would either make it up to her or get over her. But you didn’t use them, did you?” The silence that follows says enough. “Why haven’t you used those phone numbers, but why are you willing to drive up to frigging Canada to maybe only get a glimpse of her? What are you going to do, anyway? Make moon eyes from a distance?” She narrows her eyes and Emma looks up to Neal, pleading for help, but he only shakes his head. He’s not getting into this pit, and Emma scoffs. Coward.

“I just…” Emma starts, and then she sighs. “We both said things that we probably didn’t mean.”

Ruby sighs and her features soften. “Look, I know I can’t stop you and you’re not going to think about this rationally but… be careful, okay?” Suddenly, the long-legged brunette seems tiny. “I thought we’d lost you. And we’re just getting you back.” 

Emma lets go of Neal and pulls Ruby in a tight hug. “I know,” she murmurs in Ruby’s thick, long brown hair, “but also know that I can only do this  _ because _ you can get me back.” She releases Ruby a little. “I just need… I don’t know. Some closure, I guess, if not anything else.” 

Ruby nods slowly. “Do you want me to go with you?” she asks.

Emma shakes her head and lets her friend go. “No. This one, I’m going to do alone.”

So the next day, early in the morning, Emma takes her yellow bug and drives up to Richmond, British Columbia. She scolds herself immensely for going, but she really can’t help herself. Even after all this time, Regina’s a drug, like she’s told Belle before. Something she can’t get out of her system, no matter how hard she tries. One more time, she promises herself. This has to be her closure, like she’s told Ruby and Neal. She just… she needs to see how Regina’s really doing. They left things really badly.

Because even after everything, she still  _ cares. _ Her stupid, treacherous heart wants to make sure that Regina’s really okay and she can’t just fix that by using Google or any social media platform, because that never shows what’s really going on. She only has to think about the press and the publications after Regina left her last year to be reminded of it. She clenches her teeth. Reporters suck, she thinks, as she turns towards the I-5 to Vancouver. 

Two hours isn’t that much, but the minutes seem to stretch endlessly when you’re running on adrenaline and anticipation. However, she finally reaches the small, picturesque area in Richmond - it’s really postcard material - and it’s not very big so she immediately spots the camera equipment all over town. There’s some red and white colored ribbons to keep the fans at bay - a few people are watching how they’re filming, and she glances around, to see if she spots anyone familiar. The only person familiar she cares about, really.

She doesn’t even know what they’re filming exactly. And since there isn’t any scene being recorded right now, she can’t guess either. There are people, scattered around the place, joking together, drinking coffee, together, or just sitting in a chair, scrolling through their phone. 

She hovers next to the ribbon, but when she doesn’t spot the face she’s looking for, she moves away, to another area. There’s another ribbon here, and she squints to see if she spots Regina.

“Can I help you?” a security guard asks her. He looks friendly enough, so she smiles at him.

“Yeah, maybe,” she starts, a little hesitant, “I’m looking for Regina Mills?” 

“Does she know you’re coming?” he wants to know. 

“No. No, I don’t think so,” Emma says, stomach dropping, and the guy smiles politely enough.    
  
“I can’t let you through, then,” he says. She gives him a polite smile. He’s only doing his job, she figures, and sighs. Her eyes wander over the set, when from around the corner, Regina appears, a few people surrounding her.

Emma’s heart flutters and she nearly chokes on her own breath. Regina looks magnificent, hair up high and a big bejeweled dress with an impressive cleavage - enough to spark some memories of a night long gone - a corset that is embroidered in detail and a long skirt dancing around her legs. She looks like a  _ queen _ \- a dark one, actually, but it does strange things to Emma’s stomach.

Regina abruptly starts talking to the young woman next to her, scanning her surroundings until her eyes fall on Emma. Emma’s eyes grow wide, but she manages to produce something that resembles a smile, and she lifts her hand in a lame greeting. She slowly lets her breath escape when Regina says something to them and then stalks forward, towards her. The security guy takes a step aside. Emma’s pushing her hands into the pockets of her red leather jacket. 

Regina stops at an arm's length distance, her crew catches up with her, but stays two steps behind her. Regina’s face is blank as her eyes wander over Emma’s face and body. “Well,” Regina says, “this is…” Her voice ebbs away, not really knowing how to continue with all these people around.

“I only found out you were here yesterday,” Emma tells her, and it almost sounds like an apology. 

Regina’s eyes soften only the tiniest bit. “I wanted to call-”   
  
“Ah, Regina?”

Regina snaps her head towards the assistant who’s called her, and nods, before turning back to Emma. “Things… aren’t going very well and this is our last day. I have to go. But, maybe if you could wait? There are things… I would very much like to say.” 

“Okay,” Emma says, a little unsure.

Regina turns and hurries off, several people after her, and she pushes her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, head tilted as she sees how Regina’s being led away. She exhales a shivering breath. Well. That went a little better than expected.

“Come and have a look,” she hears and when she rips her eyes from Regina, she sees a woman, watching her amusedly. And Emma does.

“Are you a fan of fairy tales?” the woman asks her, while leading her through a narrow alley.

“You’re filming a fairy tale?” 

“Several, in fact,” the woman smiles. “We’ve woven a couple of them together. Regina, she plays the Evil Queen.” She leads Emma to a golf cart. “You’re lucky we’re here today. We’re filming on the beach, but most of the things are filmed up in the forest or in the studio.” 

Emma can’t help but gasp as she follows the woman, a warm feeling spreading through her belly when she remembers the conversation of long ago, about which roles Regina would be perfect for. Now, she wants to know everything about this movie. “That’s great,” she tells the woman, smiling widely. “I own a fantasy store.” 

“No kidding!” She extends a hand. “I’m Tina. Everyone here calls me Tink.”    
  
“I'm Emma. So, Tink? Like the fairy?” Emma grins as Tink laughs. 

“Yep. But I don’t mind."

"So, what’s the story about?” Emma is curious.

“What we’re basically doing is re-telling the story why the Evil Queen became Evil in the first place. It’s going to be a trilogy.” Tink smiles and then, her face falls a litle. “Well, that is, if we can get this filming done. We only have today for Regina, and then next week again, but we should be moving on to the next couple of scenes then.” Tink happily gives Emma the background, and when they reach the beach, she leads her to a guy with an impressive audio setup. “This is William,” she says, “He’ll give you a pair of headphones, so you can hear the dialogue.” 

“Thank you,” Emma says, and she feels how the excitement is growing as she accepts the headphones, putting them on.

“We’re never getting this done today,” a guy’s complaining over the headphones, and Emma’s searching the streets until she sees him, Regina standing next to him. She’s wearing a parasol to block the sun - that dress must be insanely warm, Emma thinks - and with the other one, she holds a bottle of water. 

“Well, we must. I have to be in New York on Tuesday,” Regina answers him. “Here, open this for me.”

“Stop showing off,” the guy groans, and turns a little, unscrewing the lid and handing the bottle back to Regina. “Here, look at that enormous ass,” he tells her, gesturing at one of the extra’s a little away. “So many teenagers with anorexia and here she can perfectly well share with ten other women and then still, she’d be big-bottomed.” 

Regina snorts, swallowing a sip of water. “I would think, looking at something nice like that, you and your bony little excuse for an ass would be well advised to be quiet, dear,” she haughtily says, before rolling her eyes. Emma has to snicker. She sounds like a queen, as well. “Now, onto that final scene. You’ll-”

“Say, who was that pretty little blonde I saw you talking to around the back?” the guy continues. He raises an eyebrow at her.

Regina looks at him, face in a little frown while she takes a few seconds to answer. “No one,” she finally says, “Just someone I met in the past, a long time ago, and I… don’t really know what she’s doing here. It’s a little odd.” She wrinkles her nose before sipping from her water again.

Emma simply stares at Regina as her words start to filter through her numb brain, and as the two of them continue on to the scene, she silently pulls off her headphones. Well, then, she thinks, when she hands the headphones back. That’s that. Emma hadn’t even realized she had come here for a few answers but now she has them, it all makes perfect sense. She laughs humorlessly. It was stupid of her to even think… 

No. She shakes her head and tries to remind herself that she only came here to see how Regina was doing. If she was all right. Well, clearly, she is. Her cursed heart shouldn’t hope for anything more. She tries to brace herself as her eyes flutter to Regina once more - she really does look breathtaking in that dress -, before she turns towards William.

“Thanks,” she automatically smiles at him as she hands the headphones back. “I’ve got to…” she waves at the road leading back to the town. “Anytime,” the guy answers, taking them back before turning back to his work. Emma starts to walk. One foot in front of the other. Tink and her golf cart are gone, but that’s okay. She needs some time to just… give it all a spot, she thinks, and so, Emma walks away from the set. She decides not to wait for Regina to be done. There’s nothing left to say, nothing left to stay for. She doesn’t need another humiliation. The sudden pain feels like a knife, stabbed in her back, slowly twisting around. 

But she raises her chin in a stubborn gesture, not allowing the tears to fall from her stinging eyes. She’s gotten exactly what she’d come here for.

Even if it were not the answers she truly wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song title: Revamp - Sweet Curse


	8. The Best Is Yet To Come

The following day, Emma falls back into the routine that she’s embraced all these months. The drive back to Seattle yesterday had been painful, but she’d scolded herself for expecting too much, straightened her back, and had gone home. To her utmost surprise, she had even slept a couple of hours. Closure apparently did that to you, she thought wryly.

She’s taking inventory in the back and rearranges some of the games on the shelves, when Belle tentatively comes looking for her. “Emma,” she says, a small frown on her face, “I hate to disturb you while you’re doing inventory, but... there’s a delivery for you.” There’s a strange tone in her voice, but Emma doesn’t register it fully.

“Can’t you take it?” Emma answers, brow furrowing while checking her clipboard, but Belle shakes her head.

“This isn’t for the shop,’ she says, eyes big. “This is for you. Personally, I mean.” 

Emma sighs deeply, slightly annoyed. “Even then- Okay,” she succumbs, rolling her eyes, before turning and moving her way over to the front of the shop. “You know,” she tells Belle, “you’re allowed to accept even personal- oh.”

Emma stops dead in her tracks, Belle almost bumps into her. “I’ll, uh, just finish your inventory,” she hastily says, snatching the clipboard from Emma’s now numb hands, and disappears quickly in the back.

“Hello,” Regina says, standing in the middle of the shop. She’s clasped her hands in front of her and compared to yesterday, with her gigantic dress and hair, she looks small today. Not just because of her appearance, but there’s something else that Emma can’t put her finger on. Regina sends Emma a careful smile. “You... disappeared, yesterday.” 

It is not an accusation, she’s just stating a fact, but it does feel like one and Emma folds her arms in front of her chest, leaning against the counter - the other end from where Regina’s standing. “Yeah, well, I, uh, didn’t want to disturb you,” she replies, a tiny hint of agony lining her voice. 

If Regina picks it up, she doesn’t show. “How’ve you been?” she asks. The question is almost tentative.

“Well, the same old. Nothing’s really changed.” Emma smirks without humor. Then, her tone softens the tiniest bit as she continues, “As for you, I’ve watched in wonder. Awards, glory-” 

“It’s all.. nonsense, believe me,” Regina replies, waving it away uncomfortably with her hand, “All of it. I had no idea how much nonsense it was, but now… Now I do.” 

Emma looks at her, quietly. It seems to make Regina more nervous, because she sees how her eyes flutter through the shop until she finds Emma’s eyes again. “Yesterday was our last day of filming, so, I’m leaving.” She touches a package wrapped in simple brown paper, that she’s left on the counter, “I’m only in Seattle today, but I brought this for you from home, so I thought I’d… come over and give it to you.” 

Emma takes a small step forward. “Thanks. Uh, do you want me to-” 

“Oh, no, don’t open it now. Later is fine.” She smiles a little agitated.

Emma’s brow furrows the tiniest bit. “Well, thanks, anyway. I don’t know what it’s for, but… well. thank you.” She doesn’t really know what else to say. They haven’t been so awkward since… well ever. Even throwing orange juice over Regina Mills didn’t feel as weird as this very moment does just now. 

“I had it in my apartment, and I thought you’d appreciate it, but when I came to it, I… didn’t know how to call.” Anxious, Regina clasps her hands in front of her again, to stop her fingers from fidgeting. “The last time I left I… behaved awful. Twice,” she adds with a painful smile, “So, it has been sitting in my hotel. And then you came, and I figured…” Her voice dies out, and Emma tilts her head, still not able to say anything.

“The thing is…” Regina tightens the grip on her own fingers. “The thing is,” she continues, more firmly now, but she doesn’t know how to continue.

“What’s the thing?” Emma rubs her own arms, as if she’s cold, face pulled into a mild frown with yesterday’s memories still fresh in her mind.  The air is heavy with the weight of all the words left unspoken between them.

“I want to apologize,” Regina says.”And explain. A lot, actually.” 

Emma narrows her eyes, leaning back a little. She doesn’t want to think about what this all means. She suppresses the flicker of hope in her chest relentlessly, because all hope ever did was shred her to pieces. “Well, explain then.” 

Regina’s eyes lower to the floor before she raises her head again, and she inhales a little uneven before she starts speaking. “I’m used to people wanting something from me,” she slowly starts. “It’s never about me. It’s because of what I can do for them. It’s been like that since before I can remember.” Pain flickers in her eyes, or at least, Emm thinks it does, because it’s gone within the blink of an eye. “My mother, my almost husband, my manager, everyone who… hovers close to me. My proximity gets them noticed. They want a photo, or an autograph. They want a piece of the world I live in. A piece of me. It’s made me… suspicious of everyone who wants to be near me.” She grimaces. “But with you, I… I am not used to people…. giving freely, without expecting anything in return.” She flushes, and Emma, too, feels how her cheeks turn pink, remembering the night they once spent together. 

“Well, you’re not wrong. I did want something from you,” Emma replies. Regina’s eyes widen a bit and Emma sees how Regina’s back stiffens, which makes Emma scoff. “But I only wanted what you wanted to give me. I told you that.”

Regina lowers her head, shame coloring her face. “I realize that,” she quietly replies. “I knew that even before... I reached the hotel that day.” She swallows visibly. “I just didn’t know how to make it up to you.” 

“Normal people just say sorry,” Emma frowns.

Regina flinches. “Yes. I know.” She twists her fingers. “Well, I am. Sorry, I mean. But it feels like it hardly covers everything. As if it’s an empty excuse. I wanted to… needed you to understand where it came from.” Her voice dies out, but she seems to gather some courage by straightening her back and she continues swiftly. “I have to leave today but I wondered if I didn’t... If I maybe stayed for a little while longer, whether… you might want to see me a little or… a lot, maybe.” She produces a tentative smile. “See if you could... like me again?” Her voice is almost brittle, and Emma needs to guard herself.

She raises her chin when she recalls the events of the day before. ”But yesterday that actor asked who I was and you just… dismissed me with a wave of your hand.” Regina looks a little surprised. “I heard,” Emma clarifies, “You had a microphone, I had headphones.” 

“Well,” Regina says, a little indignant, “Do you expect me to tell the truth about my life to the most indiscreet man of the entire West Coast?” 

Emma wants to scream at her because yes, the truth is exactly what she should be saying, but she just heaves a deep breath. “Regina,” she says, a little exasperated, “Maybe that’s exactly what I am expecting. Because if you would really want me in your life, you wouldn’t be able to hide me forever. I mean, just look at what happened last time.” The memory is burning. “I’m just a fairly normal girl. I have trouble letting people in and I definitely don’t fall in love often and when I do, I am…” She cuts herself off, wincing. “I have severe abandonment issues from when I was a child, so you running away, twice... it’s not really helping.” She sighs, her heart squeezing painfully at the decision, protesting fiercely, but her head is winning it this time. “So, I am going to say no, I don’t. I can’t see you again.” 

There’s a heavy silence in between them as Regina seems a little off balance. “Yes. Right. Of course,” she murmurs. “I respect that.” 

“The thing is,” Emma murmurs, more quietly now, “With you, I’m in real danger... We seem to be perfectly compatible, except for maybe that temper of yours, but… you’ve left me. The last time you nearly destroyed me, and it’s taken me a long time to get back on my feet again.” She sees how Regina flinches, barely visible, but she can’t stop, because Emma, too, needs to explain. “If you’re going to… cast me aside again, and the chances of that are pretty huge, given our track record...“ She feels the sting behind her eyes but forces the tears back with sheer willpower, “I am not sure I would ever survive. You are my curse. A bittersweet curse. You… my feelings for you have been my personal hell these last months.” She smiles but there’s no joy in it. 

Regina’s shoulders deflate for only a second. “That really is a real no, is it?” she says with a humorless smile. There’s a hint of defeat lining her voice.

“I come from an orphanage,” Emma says with a wry smile. “Several, actually. I live in Hyperion Heights where a couple of people know me. You’re -- everyone in the world knows who you are. Our worlds are light years apart.” 

“The fame thing isn’t really real,” Regina says, and she’s blinking rapidly. “I thought it was important, but in the end, it doesn’t mean anything when… I am handling this all wrong and I don’t know how to make it right.” She runs her hand through her hair with a frustrated gesture. “I just… I don’t know how to love very well. I wasn’t capable of it for a long time, not really. And then you came along.”    
  
Emma blinks, trying to register the words, but she fails. Regina smiles a watery smile. “In the end I am just a girl, standing in front of another girl, asking her to love her back.” The vein on her forehead pulsates as she waits for an answer, but Emma doesn’t have one. She’s just staring at Regina, who looks so, so small at this very moment, until the brunette deflates a little, reaches forward, kisses Emma on the cheek and whispers, “Goodbye.” Her eyes linger on Emma’s face for just a second or two, but the air feels empty to the both of them.

She waves vaguely at the package on the counter, then smiles wistfully and turns, and leaves the shop. Emma stays behind, stunned by her words, sincerely hoping she made the right decision. When Regina’s out of sight, she drops into a chair. She feels sick, tears are burning, but she had to protect herself, right? This, here and now, this might hurt like hell, but it pales next to the hurt she’ll have to endure when Regina up and leaves her again.

  
Slowly, her trembling fingers reach for the package, still wrapped in plain, brown paper, and she opens it carefully.

It’s a book. And not just any book. Emma inhales sharply as she sees the familiar cover and needs to have her book expert to look at this. “Belle?” she says, voice shaky.

Belle enters, and her eyes grow wide.

~*~

There’s an emergency meeting in the shop. Neal, driving his car in the area, has come over instantly, soon followed by Mary Margaret and David. Emma tells them the story, about how she went to the film set, what had happened there, how she’d returned and that Regina had showed up inside the store.

“She wanted to apologize for last time and then… she asked if we could start seeing each other again. And I…I turned her down. Sent her away because I couldn’t handle another broken heart,” Emma softly says. “What do you think? Good decision?”

“Never get involved with an Evil Queen,” Mary Margaret says instantly, and it makes Emma smirk, when David says: “Yes, good decision. Nothing good would ever have come from that. Some people just can’t be redeemed.”    
  
Neal snorts. “All actresses are mad as hell anyway,” he scoffs. “Knew it the minute I met her.”

“Great, great,” Emma says, and she was hoping to feel relieved with her friends backing her up, but there’s an emptiness inside her that won’t be filled.

Ruby throws the door open and skips inside. “Sorry I’m late,” she says, “What’s up?”

“Regina showed up here, at the store, to apologize, and Emma turned her down,” Neal says, extending his hand towards her. 

“What?!” Ruby cries out, “Why the hell would you do that?” 

“It does make sense, Ruby,” Mary Margaret says, but Ruby firmly plants her fists on her hips and tilts her head, narrowing her eyes, when she looks at Emma. 

“We had a conversation, you and I,” she snaps at Emma. “Only 2 days ago. I told you it was a bad decision to go to Canada. You wanted to go anyway. You said you wanted to see how she was doing to get some closure.” 

“I did,” Emma frowns.

“And then you actually  _ talk _ and you what, throw her out? Emma, you’ve been unhappy for nearly a year! Ever since this all started. And now, she wants to make it up to you and you throw her out?!”

“I didn’t-” Emma starts to protest, but Ruby scoffs and folds her arms in front of her chest.

“Do you even _ know _ what you want?” she asks, glaring at the blonde, and Emma shifts uncomfortably.

“That book,” David says, pointing at the counter, “It’s not the original, is it?”    
  
“I took a look at it,” Belle, who’s hung a bit in the back, says. “And I think it very well might be.” On the counter, on top of the plain, brown paper, lies a big book. Its cover is deep brown, the title “Once Upon a Time” imprinted in very detailed golden letters. The image is familiar, because outside of this very shop hangs a sign displaying the very cover. Only this one looks old, very old. And it's possibly worth millions.

Emma’s eyes wander over to the place where Regina stood, not long before, and she quietly says: “It was… kinda sweet, actually. I mean, I know she’s an actress so of course she can deliver a line. She was standing there, and said that she might be famous and all that, but also that she was just a girl, standing in front of another girl, asking her to love her back.” 

The silence that follows is heavy. Her eyes wander over the faces of her friends. Mary Margaret’s eyes are wet, David looks like he’s deep in thought. Neal gazes at her, sympathetically, and Ruby stares back, annoyed, shaking her head. And the despair in Emma’s stomach grows by the second.

“Holy shit, I made a mistake, didn’t I?” Her eyes grow wide. Ruby fervently nods. Emma slumps against the counter in defeat, closing her eyes. She lifts her hand to stop her friends, who scoot over in worry. She breathes in heaves, feels how her lungs sting. “I… I have to go to her hotel.”   
  
“We’ll take my car,” David says instantly.

“I’ll take care of the shop. Let me know what happens,” Belle tells Ruby, before they all fly out of the door.

~*~ 

Emma’s heart is beating rapidly in her chest, so fast that she can hardly hear what the rest is talking about. The Four Seasons hotel - that’s the best guess Emma has of hotels where Regina might be staying - is at least thirty minutes driving away with the current traffic and she feels like breathing is getting heavier with the second. David and Mary Margaret are arguing about the quickest way to the hotel while Emma stares out the window, squeezed between Ruby and Neal. “You can’t turn up dead,” Ruby murmurs in her ears, “Even a magical Evil Queen can’t revive you. Keep breathing.” 

It actually makes her laugh, albeit a little hysterically, but it helps to calm her down, if only a fraction. Yet, it still feels like forever until they finally reach the hotel. Emma jumps out, closely followed by Ruby, who laughs because of all the tension. “If it wasn’t so serious, this James Bond stuff would be fun,” she says a little breathless from running.

Emma runs inside, straight up to the reception, where a surprised receptionist takes an involuntary step back as Emma skids to a halt. “Excuse me, is Miss Mills staying here?” she says, out of breath. 

“No, ma’am,” the receptionist says firmly, he’s gathered himself again. He eyes her a little disapprovingly.

“How about, uh, Miss Cinderella?”    
  
“No, ma’am.” 

“Miss Bambi?” The familiar feeling of loss creeps back into Emma’s stomach.

“No, ma’am.” 

“Or, uhm, I don’t know. Snow White?” 

“No, ma’am.” 

“Okay. Well. Thanks anyway,” Emma murmurs, defeated. Ruby gently touches her arm in support, eyeing her sympathetically. They turn towards the doors, and take a step to leave, when the receptionist clears his throat.

“There was a Miss Pocahontas, but she checked out an hour ago. I believe she’s holding a press conference at the Hyatt Regency hotel, before heading to the airport,” the receptionist says. He winks, barely visible, as if he’s in on a secret, and when his words dawn on Emma, there’s the tiniest spark of hope. “Oh my god,” Ruby cries to the receptionist, “I can kiss you!” A few other guests turn their heads as the receptionist flushes and takes another step back, but Ruby grabs Emma’s hand and tugs her towards the doors. “We’ve got to go.”    
  
“Thank you,” Emma sincerely says over her shoulder and he smiles, taking the phone as they leave.

The Hyatt Regency is the biggest hotel in the area and it’s not too far, so they make it there within six minutes. Emma runs in, onto the reception. “Excuse me, um, where’s the press conference, please?”   
  
“Are you an accredited member of the press?” the receptionist stoically says.

“No,” Emma answers, “but-”   
  
“I am.” 

She whirls around. Standing there, she sees a familiar face that she hasn’t seen in almost a year, grinning at her. “Dogster Magazine, wasn’t it?” 

Emma sends him a crooked smile. “Seattle Times,” she replies, and then the man turns to the receptionist. “She’s with me.” 

“And you are?” 

“Journalist of the Seattle Times,” he casually says, “I’m August Booth.” 

The receptionist checks his accreditation and eyes both of them warily. “Of course, sir. It’s in the Regency Ballroom, but I’m afraid you’re rather late.” 

“Let’s go,” August says, grabbing Emma’s arm, and she willingly follows. “Why-” 

“I’m not an idiot,” he tells her with a smirk, “I saw how you looked at me, back then at the Four Seasons. I saw the state you were in after your interview with Regina. And how you looked when you left the hotel after. I saw the photos of you and Regina, when she apparently used your place as a hideout. And I’m seeing you now.”   
  
Emma blinks. “You don’t know me. Why would you even help me?”    
  


“Well,” August says, as they stand in the elevator, going up, “Let’s say I’m a sucker for personal stories.” 

At those words, Emma’s eyes grow wary. No matter how much she appreciates the help, she’s not going to sell herself or Regina to any member of the press. “I’m not going to give you an interview.” 

August shrugs. “I didn’t say I wanted one. Personally, I like these happy endings. Sometimes, I ask a favor in return. And sometimes, you just have to help someone out of the… goodness of your heart.” 

“And which one’s this?” Emma says, still suspicious.

“Let’s say that if you’ll get your happy ending, I’ve done a job well done. If not, then I’ll get back to you.” 

Fair enough. At least he’s given her a chance. Emma nods, not knowing what she’s getting herself into, but it’ll just have to do for now.

They arrive at the Regency Ballroom, and they go in. For a moment, Emma stops in her tracks and August nearly bumps in to her, until he pushes her inside. There’s a stage built at the other side of the room and Regina’s sitting there, flanked by the manager - Mr Gold, she remembers - Kathryn. The room is filled with reporters, some of them, who’re standing a bit more in the back, turn to see who at such a late point. “Go,” August mutters, and Emma does, a little in awe. This is Regina’s life. This is what she’s getting into. She feels how the nerves rage through her body and she wipes her clammy hands at her pants. 

For a second, she wonders if this is still what she wants. Is she willing to step into this life where there’s reporters and photographers waiting for you at all street corners? 

The short and simple answer sings through her body. She straightens her shoulders and moves forward, maneuvering herself between a couple of writing journalists, ducking below a camera, when she hears the next question. “Does that mean that Miss Mills won’t be promoting her next film?” 

“No,” Mr Gold says, “It means that she’ll be abiding by all her present commitments. She just won’t be making any more for the next year.” 

“When will the movie be released?” another reporter asks. Emma walks past a video camera with a big screen, focused on Regina. She seems lost, tiny behind the large table. Defeated. Emma clenches her teeth as Regina’s manager continues to answer the questions. 

“At the moment, the plan is to release towards the end of autumn.” 

Emma slips between a group of journalists standing in the back, while Mr Gold says: “Dominic, next question.”

“Regina, how long are you staying in Seattle?”

“No time at all. I leave tonight,” Regina dutifully answers, a smile plastered on her face. Emma’s stomach drops as her manager adds: “Which is why we have to round things up now, so final questions, please.” Voices rise, and he picks out one. “Yes, sir over there.” 

“The last time you were here, there were some fairly graphic photographs taken of you with a blonde woman. So, uh, what happened there?”   
  
Emma automatically ducks her head, and watches Regina over the shoulder of one of the other journalists. Regina visibly tenses, eyes flying towards Kathryn, who looks back in sympathy before Regina’s gaze turns back to the reporter.

“She… she was just a friend. We’re still friends, I think,” Regina says primly. 

Before she knows what she’s doing, Emma raises her hand. Her red jacket stands out and Mr Gold instantly notices. “Right. Lady in the red jacket.” 

Stunned that she gets to speak, she stands there for 2 seconds with her hand still raised, while looking around her to see if there’s another woman with a red jacket. But no, he’s really addressing her. Regina’s gaze wanders over the crowd and stops at Emma - her eyes grow wide. It fuels Emma’s almost nonexistent confidence just the tiniest bit.

“Yeah,” Emma says, suddenly extremely nervous. “Um, Miss Mills, are there any circumstances in which the two of you… might be more than just friends?” It’s a daring question. She doesn’t even know if all of these people know that Regina also likes women.

Regina’s gaze falters slightly, but she keeps her eyes locked with Emma’s. There’s an unspoken question in them and Emma unwillingly holds her breath, while her heart starts to pick up the pace until her heartbeat is hammering in her head, making it almost difficult to hear Regina’s response. 

“Well,” Regina says after a pause, eyes momentarily leaving Emma to wander through the room. She seems to make a decision. “I hoped there would be, but… no. I am assured that there aren’t.” 

Emma’s breath gets stuck in her throat. Hope flares again inside her stomach and this time, she doesn’t suppress it. She inhales deeply before she starts to speak again. 

“But what would you say if-”

“I’m sorry, just the one question, please,” the manager says, but Regina interjects. “No, it’s all right,” she says hurridly. She seems filled with anticipation. “You were saying?”

“I was just wondering, if, uh, it turned out that this girl…”   
  
“Swan,” another reporter helpfully says, and Emma smirks at him, “Thanks, so, I just wondered if this girl Swan, realized that she’d been an….” She cringes momentarily, “insipid moron….” The crowd mumbles a bit, but Emma stares at Regina, who’s staring right back at her, “and if she’d go down on her knees, begging you to reconsider... if you, you know, would actually… reconsider?” She’s babbling and can’t help herself. 

The silence lasts for a couple of seconds and Emma feels the pressure building in her shoulders as she’s tensing all the muscles in her body while waiting for a reply. She faintly registers that all the murmurs in the room have subsided as well, as everyone’s waiting Regina’s answer. As the silence continues, Emma instinctively braces herself for the worst possible outcome.

But then, Regina sends her a tiny smile. “Yes. I believe I would,” she softly answers.   
  
Immediately, the murmuring in the audience is back, more forcefully now, and Emma’s tension breaks, almost choking on her relief and she feels lighter than she has in a very long time. Her skin feels tight, so tight, as if she’s almost bursting out of it. “That’s very good news,” she breathes, “the readers of Dogster Magazine will be delighted.” 

There's laughter around the venue as Regina bends over towards her manager, whispering something in his ear. Emma’s inhaling and exhaling slowly, smiling dopily as the manager looks at Regina, slightly confused, then to Emma, before he fulfills Regina’s request. “Right. Eh, Dominic? If you’d like to ask your question again?”

“Sure. Regina, how long do you intend to stay here in Seattle?” 

Regina’s eyes find Emma’s again, who’s still looking back smiling. Regina raises her eyebrows in a silent question and Emma shrugs, nods almost invisibly, and Regina answers the question with a wide smile.

“Indefinitely.” 

Emma’s grinning, almost not seeing how the reporters turn at her in wonder, some frowning, and then the rumor starts spreading that, in fact, miss Emma Swan is here in the venue. She can just only bite her lip, locking her eyed with Regina who’s smiling wider than she’s ever seen her smile and the photographers are pushing forward to the table, getting their shots of Regina Mills, while others are turning their camera to Emma, who’s pushing her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, slightly tilting her head while sending a silent promise towards Regina. 

That this, right here, is a happy beginning to their own fairytale.

She hardly hears the questions fired at her, hardly sees how the manager nods at her, motions her to come over, until someone grabs her at her arm and she nearly yelps in surprise. It’s August, coming to help her. “You’re supposed to go over there and kiss the girl,” he murmurs while leading her expertly through the vast sea of reporters, until they’ve reached the table.

Regina slowly stands up, ignoring the shouts and questions and flashing lights surrounding them, and she motions security to let Emma pass. The lights on stage are blinding Emma when she goes up the few stairs and the flashes are intimidating and momentarily, she’s overcome by panic because there are so many people shouting Regina’s name. She is so important, to everyone, and it makes her insecurity take over again. 

But then she hears her name from the only person that matters. Regina’s only a few meters away and she extends her hand, a question on her face, which Emma answers with a shaky smile. With another few steps Emma's standing opposite from Regin and then she can reach for her, and Regina reaches for Emma, and their fingers lace together. Emma doesn’t hear the reporters any more, she’s fully focused on the brunette with those warm, soulful eyes in front of her, a small, hopeful smile around her lips. 

“Yeah?” is the only thing Emma can say, followed by only a breath, “are you sure?”

“Surer than I’ve been about anything in my life,’ Regina whispers back, before letting go of Emma’s hands, cupping the blonde’s face and, in front of the entire press of the West Coast, she presses her lips on Emma’s. Emma’s eyes fall shut and she wraps her arms tightly around Regina’s shoulders, ignoring the thundering whoops and applause and flashing lights. She smiles against Regina’s lips and murmurs, “I love you,” and Regina’s eyes are wet with tears while she laughs, while she holds Emma so tight and promises to never let her go again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's only the epilogue left to write (I'm a sucker for those). It'll contain little snippets of their lives together. I've got a few already but I'm open for suggestions because I'm not entirely ready to let these two go yet :)
> 
> Title song of this Chapter: The Best Is Yet To Come - Novastar
> 
> Follow me on Twitter: @queststar


	9. Epilogue - Wind Beneath My Wings

They leave the hotel through a back door because with the speed of social media, a crowd has already gathered in front of the hotel. Apparently, a couple of reporters have alreadyFacebooked, instagrammed and tweeted the hell out of their first very public kiss, which is already causing an online earthquake. But right now, Emma can’t be bothered with it and from the looks of it, at this moment neither does Regina. Emma doesn’t know if Regina will have an emotional meltdown later, but she’s determined that if it happens, she is not going to let the brunette walk away.

However, there’s no peace at the back of the hotel either. Their car is pulling up as they leave the premises, but there are at least a dozen of people shouting at them, cheering, taking pictures and the shutters keep on clicking rapidly when they quickly move towards the waiting car.

They’re holding onto each other tightly, arms hooked, fingers laced, not wanting to let go anymore. Emma’s walking on clouds, stupidly grinning at the woman next to her while they slide into the town car with darkened windows. When the door closes, the noise outside dissipates immediately and after the rapid sound of shutters and reporters, they both welcome the silence.

Emma inhales deeply, leaning back into the back seat, still not really grasping what this all means, but Regina smiles at her, eyes shining. Emma wraps her arm around Regina’s shoulders, pulling her closer. The movie star lays her head on Emma’s shoulder, eases into the embrace, She sighs contently. “I can’t believe you did that,” she murmurs, still a bit dazed, and adds a little hesitant, “I can’t believe  _ I _ did that.” 

Emma smiles. “Me neither, actually, but it was either that or... “ She shivers, and they both realize what comes behind the or. Not ever seeing each other again, probably. “My friends, they brought me here, they’re…” Her eyes widen. “Oh, shit. They’re probably still waiting for me,” she groans, head falling back to the car’s seat before she tries to fish her phone out of her pocket with her free hand. She quickly unlocks her phone, sees a dozen of messages waiting for her already but she ignores them, typing a message to Ruby that they’ve left the building and they should go home. And that she’ll call them later.

“They’re here?” Regina tilts her head, suddenly a little unsure. “They must hate me.” 

“Well,” Emma grimaces, “You might want to talk to them, but I think Ruby still wants to be your friend. If it weren’t for her, I probably wouldn’t be here. If it weren’t for all of them, actually. And,” she says, tracing patterns up and down Regina’s arm, “I’ll be there with you, so we’ll do it together.” 

Regina lifts her head, and presses her lips on Emma’s, who gasps, drops her phone, and raises her now free hand to cup Regina’s face. They only let go when it becomes hard to breathe. There’s a goofy smile on Emma’s face, while her fingers trace the contours of Regina’s face. “I can’t believe we get to do that now,” she murmurs, gently caressing Regina’s forehead with her lips. Regina only sighs happily.

“Where do you want to go?” Emma then asks, and Regina’s smile causes her heart to somersault. 

“Take me home.” 

And Emma does just that. 

~*~

**4 weeks later**

“Well, let’s start then, shall we? Regina, how did you two meet?”

Regina’s eyes flick to Emma and she smiles, remembering the first time they met. “I bought a book in her store,” she answers with a smirk, “And when I was on my way to my car a little later, she threw her orange juice over me.”

“Not on purpose,” Emma protests, “It was an accident! You came from around the corner. And I was soaked in orange juice as well.” 

They’re sitting in their living room on the couch. Emma’s arm is loosely draped around Regina’s shoulder and the brunette leans into the embrace. When she turns her head, their noses almost touch. August sits in the comfortable chair opposite from them. There’s a recording device in between. 

It’s been a couple of very, very hectic weeks. Apparently, when one of America’s most loved and famous actresses publicly announces her love for another woman, it’s big news for a long, long time. The house in Hyperion Heights was crowded for days until they hired a security guy to keep the people away from her front steps. Even the shop had to be closed for a week. Now, Belle and Mulan are running it, until things have quieted down a little bit.

It’s why they decided to do one interview. One interview in which they would openly talk about their relationship, hoping that they would at least get a little peace afterwards. They’re not sure if this is going to work, but it’s worth a shot. And when they decided to do this, Emma knew the perfect reporter for the job.

August smiles amused at them when Regina laughs. The sound of her laughing is infectious to everyone, Emma says, snorting herself. “I brought her here so she could clean up.” She glares at her girlfriend, who’s eyes sparkle back. “And then she kissed me.” 

There’s a little silence when they both remember that very first kiss, until August cleared his throat. “And then she left,” Emma adds.

“She left,” August repeats, eyebrows raised. “And what happened then?”

“I left her a message to call me. It took her four days to answer.” Regina rolls with her eyes, but there’s nothing serious about it.

“My roommate threw out your note,” she protested. Her face grows smug. “I threw him out later.” They both have to grin about that.

“It sounds perfect for a rom-com script,” August smiles, “Emma, what is it really like, dating a celebrity?”

“It’s difficult, sometimes,” Emma immediately answers in full honesty. Regina tenses a little bit. The only arguments they’ve had were really about this particular subject. She throws Regina an apologetic look. “I’m just… a normal girl, actually. I’m not used to so much attention and I’m definitely not used to having my movements limited. At some point, I felt… caged. I wasn’t able to go to work for two weeks.” She grimaces. “People have been standing in front of the house for days on end, some of them even kept on ringing the doorbell for hours. We’ve had to hire a security guard to keep them off the porch.” She shifts her gaze from August to Regina. “I thought I knew what I was getting into, but it takes a little more time than I thought it would to adjust. One that I’m really willing to work through, so we talk a lot about it.” 

“We sometimes argue about it, as well,” Regina quietly adds. “As much as I would want us to be a... normal couple, it’s not like that’s going to happen anytime soon. I… can’t just go to the supermarket by myself without being recognized. I’m used to that. And with the media storm we’ve had, neither can Emma. And she gets frustrated because of that.”   
  
“I have difficulties accepting that, sometimes,” Emma agrees. She shifts her body a little, so she faces Regina, laces her fingers with the brunette’s when she adds: “But, even though I might grow a little frustrated once in a while… you’re absolutely worth it.” She smirks. “You’re stuck with me and my frustration, can’t get rid of me anymore.” 

Regina relaxes again, they both turn back to August. Emma feels like she can face anything as long as Regina’s next to her, so she smiles at the reporter. “Now, since we’ve established that… what else do you want to know?”

~*~ 

**2 months later**

Something wakes Emma in the middle of the night. There’s a draft between the open window and the door to the hallway that hadn’t been there before. She frowns, automatically reaches for the empty spot next to her. Then, still half asleep, she smiles. Regina’s not next to her but she’s home, she thinks with a satisfied sigh, and she drifts off again.

The creaking stairs moments later pull her out of her slumbers again and she turns to face the door, waiting for Regina to come in. The brunette tries to enter quietly, but Emma mutters a cracked: “Hi.” 

“Sorry I’m late,” Regina whispers, dropping her bag before moving towards the bed. She softly touches Emma’s sleepy face. “I’d hoped to be here sooner.” 

“‘s Okay, you’re here now,” Emma mumbles, “come to bed.” 

Regina undresses quickly and slips between the sheets. When she wraps her arms around Emma, Emma sighs happily. The brunette presses her nose in Emma’s neck, nuzzling it softly. For a few seconds, they lay there, snuggling silently.

Then, Regina presses a kiss to the sensitive spot behind Emma’s ear, and she shivers involuntarily. She feels how Regina smiles against her skin. Suddenly, the air feels electric, filled with expectation, and Emma’s not so tired anymore when Regina’s tongue starts to trace patterns in her neck, bites her pulse point, and with a slight tilt of her head, traces Emma’s collar bone. She gasps softly, and a soft grin next to her shows that Regina’s heard it.

“Are you tired?” Regina murmurs, pressing soft kisses against Emma’s jaw, and she shakes her head as heat rises in her lower belly. “Not anymore,” she softly replies. Immediately, Regina pushes herself up on her knees and straddles Emma. 

“Good.” 

Regina’s fingers expertly open the buttons of Emma’s flannel pyjama shirt, and Emma lets her, silently admiring the shape of Regina’s naked upper body in the faint light coming from the hallway. When Regina lightly bends over to touch her breasts, Emma’s breath hitches. She lifts her own hands to touch Regina’s, but the brunette pushes her hands away.

“Let me.”

She guides Emma’s hands to the pillows above her head, stretching her own torso over Emma’s face in order to place them there and Emma bites her lip to suppress a moan. “Mean,” she all but whines, but all she can see is a quick smirk, before Regina bends over and starts to cover Emma’s neck and breast with featherlight kisses.

At the same time, she starts to slowly rock her hips against Emma, teasing the blonde to follow her rhythm and Emma does exactly that, drifting helplessly on a sea of passion. Regina moans softly, catching Emma’s lips, teasing her with her tongue to open her mouth. Emma complies with a soft whimper. 

Heat rushes through her veins, Regina’s tongue is setting all her nerves on fire before she leaves her mouth and starts licking, nipping, biting in her sensitive neck. “Oh, Jesus,” she breathes, while an uncontrollable shiver runs through her body. It draws a hoarse chuckle from Regina. 

“You can call me Regina, darling,” she murmurs between soft bites, sliding down to continue with Emma’s breasts. Emma softly protests as Regina’s hips leave hers when Regina moves down, craves the touch to her core like she’s an addict, but she shivers in anticipation as both Regina’s tongue and fingers wander towards her lower belly instead. She briefly detaches herself from Emma’s body, only to settle between Emma’s legs instead, mouth returning to her hips while fingers trailing the inside of her legs, first down, then up to the apex of her thighs. Emma’s hips buck involuntary and she hisses, heart slamming against her chest, her body alive under Regina’s touch.

Regina’s mouth follows its way down to Emma’s legs, replacing the fingers with her tongue, sometimes placing soft kisses on the inside of Emma’s thigh first down to her knee, then almost unbearably slowly making her way upwards. 

“Regina,” Emma breathes, shifting her hips to move closer to the brunette’s fingers and mouth, “Please.” She can feel the smile against her thigh as lean fingers travel the way to her center, which makes Emma hiss. She whimpers when first one, then two fingers run through her slickened folds, the other arm snaking around Emma’s right leg to keep her in place when both fingers enter her. Emma groans in relief, starts to rock against Regina’s hand. Regina moves slightly and catches Emma’s clit with her mouth, sucking, teasing, licking it, while her fingers inside pick up a slow but steady pace. Emma feels the tension rise, breathes heavily while the fire inside builds up, the hot electricity shoots from all the corners of her body to that one spot that’s now begging for release, and when Regina twists her fingers she comes undone with a loud cry. Her body arches from the bed, but her legs tighten around Regina’s head to keep her in place. Emma rides out her orgasm against her lover until she finally, finally lands back on earth. 

Emma still tries to regain her breath when Regina moves up and draws Emma in her arms. Emma buries her face in Regina’s shoulder, crawls up against Regina’s body, until she finally has a position that she likes and she sighs contently.

“Welcome home, Regina,” she softly says, suddenly exhausted from their midnight excersize.

“Hmm. Happy to be here,” Regina murmurs. She sounds like a purring cat.

“If that’s how you apologize for being late, I really don’t mind you being late all the time.” 

Regina grins, and it’s the last thing Emma hears before she drifts off.

~*~

**1 month later**

Emma stares in the mirror and hardly recognizes herself. The red dress is a picture, but she feels like a completely different person in it. The long skirt dances around her legs, and the tight top leaves her shoulders bare and subtly shows her cleavage. She’s put up her hair a little, letting her curls fall on her shoulders. With some subtle eyeliner and red lipstick, her outfit is complete.

It’ll have to do, she thinks with a shiver. She’s accompanying Regina to the premier of her next movie. “Red carpet and all,” Regina has said, “So we get to dress up.” She seems excited about it, so Emma tried to be excited as well.

She hardly ever wears dresses and decided to surprise Regina with one, but now she’s actually wearing one, she grows more insecure by the minute. This is the first gigantic public event that she will attend together with Regina after the media storm subsided somewhat and she doesn’t want to fail her. She doesn’t want to mess it up. 

Chances are, she’s going to mess it up.

Her hands are clammy, like they always are when she’s nervous, but she can’t wipe them off at her evening gown, so she turns to wash her hands instead. When she’s done, there’s a soft knock on her door.

“Are you ready, dear? The car has arrived, we have to go.” 

“Yeah… Yeah, I think I am. I’ll be there in a sec,” Emma replies.

“I’ll see you downstairs.” The footsteps move away from the door and she hears how Regina’s descending the stairs. Emma stares in the mirror again, strikes a tendril of hair behind her airs and heaves a deep breath, straightening her shoulders. Here she goes.

Careful, not to trip over her skirt, she descends the stairs and she hears a gasp when she’s halfway down. She can’t look up, because she’s too afraid of falling. 

“Emma,” Regina says breathless, as soon as she’s regained at least some of her speech. 

“I didn’t know if the color was all right, is it? I normally don’t wear dresses, I don’t look like an idiot in this dress, do I?” She knows she’s nervously rambling as she takes the final steps down. She looks up to Regina, her own breath catching in her throat as well. Regina’s wearing a deep dark blue, velvet-y dress, a corset around her torso which is embroidered with silver and little diamonds and a wide skirt hiding her legs. “You look like a queen,” she breathes, and Regina laughs.

“Fitting for tonight’s premier, don’t you think? You look like a princess too, darling.” Regina, recovering quicker than Emma, raises one eyebrow at her. “Do I need to worry that you’ll be swept away by a dashing knight on a white horse tonight?”

Emma wrinkles her nose. ”Princess Emma,” Emma smirks, nerves falling away at Regina’s approval. “I’m not sure that I’m cut out to be princess material. I’m more like the knight you’re describing. A savior.” 

She holds up an imaginary sword and Regina chuckles, but when their eyes meet, there’s a soft glance in them.

“You are a savior,” she softly says. “You saved me.” Their fingers lace together once Regina reaches for Emma’s hand, and only then Emma’s able to fully enjoy the vision next to her. 

“I think I have to worry more about you than about myself,” Emma smiles, lifting their hands, enabling Regina to make a pirouette in her black gown. “Look at you. You look dashing. There’s many princes who’ll fight for your hand.” She leans in for a quick kiss on Regina’s cheek before she leads her to the front door.

“Hm. There’s only one savior I’m interested in.”

“Yeah. She really can’t wait to get you out of this dress tonight,” Emma murmurs devilishly when they step into the car with the help of the driver. 

Regina’s flush doesn’t leave her face until they reach the theater. 

The car comes up slowly and when it stops, someone helps Regina out of the car. Emma follows and is immediately blinded by the flashing cameras. She gasps, nearly trips, but Regina catches her. For a moment, their eyes lock and Regina must’ve seen the anxiety in Emma’s gaze, because her fingers softly caress the spot where she grabbed her moments before. “I’ve got you,” she murmurs in her ear, “I’m not leaving you alone.” 

She intertwines their fingers and leads her to the red carpet. Emma walks stiffly. She thought she was used to this kind of attention by now, but when people start to call out Regina’s name first and sometimes even hers, she just doesn’t know where to look. Her body feels like a stranger in her evening gown, her heels are already killing her and she’s definitely kicking them off when the movie starts, and she sees spots all over from all the flashing lights. She tries to keep the smile plastered on her face, but her jaws are starting to hurt.

She feels how Regina leans over, how she hooks her arm in her own and she leans over. “Don’t worry,” Regina whispers in her ear, nuzzling her hair, “this will soon be over. Or,” Regina whispers in her ear, “I could kiss the hell out of you and make you forget all about them.” 

Emma turns her head towards her girlfriend, electricity bolting to her lower belly as she sofly replies with wide eyes, “You wouldn’t… would you?” 

Regina watches her, eyes shimmering and a corner of her mouth slightly quirked, before she raises her hand to cup her cheek. “I would,” she murmurs, “But I think, with the way you’re looking at me right now, we’ve given them enough to think about already.” 

Emma blinks, slightly dazed, and Regina smirks, leading her over the red carpet, stopping again so the photographers can have their go at them. “You know,” she purrs in Emma’s ear again, “The best thing about a movie theater is that it’s pitch dark inside. And of course, we have the VIP balcony seats.” 

Emma’s brain short circuits for the rest of the red carpet walk and only thinks about the camera’s and reporters right before they enter the venue. “Well, you definitely got my mind off of this circus,” Emma says, relief lining her voice as she nuzzles Regina’s cheek, causing the brunette to choke on her breath. “Seems like you’re my savior, too. And I really, really hope that the thing about movie theaters being dark was a promise.” 

Regina chuckles hoarsely, and her voice is low and full of promises when she replies: “You’ll find out in about thirty minutes.”

~*~

**1,5 months later**

“Regina, I swear to god,” Ruby groans, rubbing her belly, “With that year off of yours, come give Granny some pointers in the diner. We would sell high cuisine with this food of yours. I feel like I’m eight months pregnant.” 

“Imagine how I feel then,” Mary Margaret murmurs, her hand striking the gigantic baby bump gently, “It’s like I’ve got two inside now.” 

“Your grandmother sells frozen lasagna as her own,” Emma snorts at Ruby, “I once tried to show her how to make my famous grilled cheese sandwich and she almost hit me with a frying pan.”

“Yeah, but she really likes Regina,” Ruby retorts with a smile. “The picture we took for the diner, she still looks at it with pride every day. I swear I sometimes hear her talking to it.” 

They’re sitting in Emma’s living room around Emma’s round table. Emma’s flanked by Ruby and David, Neal on David’s other side, then Mary Margaret and Regina’s between the latter and Ruby. Emma smiles at her girlfriend. 

Sometimes, it’s still surreal to call Regina that, even after all these months. Especially when she’s on covers of magazines, stickered on buses or invited for late night shows. But here, at this table, smiling widely while accepting the compliments of their friends, it’s easy. It’s normal. It’s domestic. Emma loves domestic Regina especially.

This week, it is their turn to host their weekly dinner and Emma’s she has happily given up the rule of the kitchen, surrendering it to Regina completely. The brunette’s a  _ way _ better cook and Emma prefers eating over cooking anyway. Especially when it comes to Regina’s dishes.

For the last couple of months, they’ve started to rotate their weekly dinners between the diner, Mary Margaret’s and David’s, and Emma’s house. Whenever they’re at the diner, Granny takes pride in making and serving them their food, to Ruby’s utmost despair. But Granny’s taken a liking to Regina, so she’s more than willing to try. 

Regina beams and leans back into her chair. “Well, the pleasure is all mine,” she says fondly, looking around the table. Emma sees how relaxed she is around them. It has cost a few dinners and some grovelling, but in the end even Mary Margaret and David came around. 

The brunette gets up. “Dessert?” she asks, while she takes the plates. Ruby gets up to help her clear the table and together, they disappear in the kitchen. 

“You’re beaming rainbows,” Neal tells Emma. “Stop it. It’s making me sick.” 

Emma snorts. “Speak for yourself, you ass. I’ve seen the eye sex between you and Ruby all night.”

“Children, children,” David fondly chastises them. “Mind your language. There’s a baby present.” 

“Who can’t hear anything yet,” Neal retorts, and David places a hand on Mary Margaret’s belly protectively.

“You can never start too early,” he says while Emma rolls her eyes, as Regina and Ruby return from the kitchen. David’s eyes grow wide. “Is that homemade tiramisu?”

“Yes, it is,” Regina answers, “I thought you might like it.” There’s a smaller plate for Mary Margaret, who eyes it sceptically. “And this one,” Regina says with a small smile, “is without any alcohol.” 

“You’re an angel,” Mary Margaret sighs, accepting a spoon from Ruby, wincing when the baby kicks. “Can’t wait to evict this little guy,” she says with a sigh. “Two more weeks to go. I miss wine, eating raw steak… wine. ” Regina touches her sympathetically.

They all take a bite and moan collectively, before bursting in laughter simultaneously. “We’re pathetic,” Ruby snorts, shaking her head. 

For a few seconds, they’re diving in their tiramisu. Then, suddenly, Mary Margaret pales and sits up straight.

“Emma,” she cautiously says, slowly turning her head towards the blonde. Her fingers curl around the edge of the table. “How expensive are these chairs?”

Emma shrugs. Most of her interior is either from Ikea or is so old that she can’t bother. “Not at all. Why? Did you drop your tiramisu?”

“Rude,” Neal adds. “If you don’t like it, just hand it over.” 

“Well,” Mary Margaret says, very calmly. “You’re not getting my tiramisu because I am still going to finish this. But I think my water just broke.”   
  
There’s an eerie silence for a couple of seconds when everyone’s staring at Mary Margaret, while the petite brunette picks up her spoon and almost serenely takes another bite of her tiramisu. Then, David violently pushes his chair backwards, causing it to forcibly hit the floor. It causes the rest of them to snap out of their stupor while he makes his way over to his wife. 

“We have to go!” he cries out, grabbing Mary Margaret’s arm. “We need to go to the hospital!” 

“Don’t be silly,” Mary Margaret retorts with a frown. “What I need are clean clothes and finish my dessert. I’m not even feeling any contractions yet. Finish yours, too, because god knows when we have time to eat again.” 

Those contractions start a little later, right after she’s finished her final bite (under the agonizing eyes of all present). Mary Margaret’s eyes grow wide. “Okay,” she groans, “I always wondered what they felt like. I can tell you guys, it’s not funny.” 

“That’s it,” David growls. He looks paler than his wife. “We’re going to the hospital.” He leaves the room instantly only to return with Mary Margaret’s coat a few seconds later. In the meantime, Mary Margaret has grabbed Emma’s hand and squeezes it when another contraction hits her, and Emma yelps.

“Okay,” Mary Margaret heaves when the contraction passes. “Hospital, it is.” 

She and David make their way to the door, the others are shouting well wishes, but it stops Mary Margaret in her tracks. “You’re coming with, aren’t you?” She says, eyes wide. 

“You want us there?” Ruby asks, but she's not waiting for any confirmation. “Okay, I’m in!” She snatches her coat from the rack and bounces out, Neal whooping and following in her wake. David rushes out while muttering, “I’ll get the car,” and Mary Margaret frowns as she looks at both Emma and Regina.

Regina nudges Emma to the door. “Go on, I’ll clean up. Call me when he’s born,” she says, placing a kiss on the blonde’s cheek. Emma smiles before grabbing her leather jacket, but Mary Margaret frowns at her.

“Why aren’t you coming?” 

“Oh,” Regina replies, surprised. Then, she shifts uncomfortably. “I’m not sure- You want me there?”

“Of course I want you there,” Mary Margaret says firmly, narrowing her eyes, “You’re  _ family _ .”

Then, she tightens her grip around the door post and groans as another contraction washes over her and both Emma and Regina rush over. “This baby really wants to come  _ out _ ,” Mary Margaret whimpers, “So please, don’t argue with the very pregnant lady in the house and get your ass over to the hospital.” 

David comes around the corner with his car, tires shrieking as he hits the brakes when parking his car on the sidewalk. He jumps out, rubbing his neck as he runs over to his wife, who keeps Regina’s gaze for a little while longer. “I expect you to be there when this one’s out,” she growls lowly and Regina raises her hands in surrender. 

“I’ll be there,” she promises earnestly.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Emma adds.

Then, Mary Margaret is in the car, and David fumbles with his keys, dropping them to the sidewalk the first time, before he snatches them up and falls into his seat. The engine’s roaring seconds after, and with screeching tires they’re off, Neal and Ruby following on their tail while honking and waving at Emma and Regina.

Emma turns towards Regina, who seems nervous. “What is it?”

“I can’t go into a hospital without being recognized,” Regina says, doubt in her voice. “I don’t want the entire maternity ward…” Her voice falters. 

Emma gently gets a cap from the coat rack and puts in on Regina’s head. “Mary Margaret doesn’t care,” she hums, “and if I have to, I’ll… Krav Maga the hell out of them to protect both you and her.” 

Regina can’t help but laugh, remembering their first encounter when Emma threatened to do the same with an almost shoplifter. She relaxes, caresses Emma’s cheek while giving her a kiss. Emma happily responds but pouts when Regina quickly retreats. 

“All right. Give me ten minutes to clean up our dinner mess.” 

“I’ll help,” Emma says. Between the two of them, they’re done within a few minutes and back at the door not much later. Emma helps Regina into her coat and then snakes her arm around Regina's waist, hugging her from behind and inhaling the unique scent of her girlfriend.  “She’s right, you know.” 

"Who? Mary Margaret? About what?” Regina leans into Emma’s embrace, both enjoying the calm before the storm.

“You’re family. You can’t get away from family. Which means you’ll have to stay forever.”

“Oh. That’s a very long time,” Regina murmurs.

“Yeah. Better get used to it. You’re stuck with them. With me.” She raises her eyebrows playfully.

“Hmm,” Regina hums, pursing her lips, then sighs with a tiny smirk. “Doesn’t sound too bad. I think I can live with that.”

“That’s the only right answer.” Emma opens the door and holds out her hand. “Shall we go and welcome our newest family member to the club?” 

Regina stretches her hand, lacing Emma’s fingers with her own. “Definitely,” she says, brown eyes shining. She raises their intertwined hands and gently places a kiss on Emma’s. “Have I told you today that I love you?”

“Hm. You did. But I never really get tired of hearing it,” Emma says, eyes wrinkling while nuzzling her nose against Regina’s.

“I love you, Emma,” Regina murmurs, before pressing her lips against Emma’s. Emma kisses her back, opening her mouth. A soft whimpering sound emerges from her throat when Regina’s tongue slips inside, causing her stomach to flip instantly. She withdraws reluctantly. 

“Don’t,” she breathes, trying to steady her breathing, “We have to sit in a hospital for hours.” 

“Hmm,” Regina replies, pushing a tendril of hair behind Emma’s face, “Maybe we can find a nice and comfy storage room over there.”

Emma snickers. “You are incorrigible,” she sighs, dramatically rolling her eyes. Regina laughs and offers her arm, which Emma happily takes.

And when Emma and Regina walk towards the yellow bug, Emma thinks life can’t get any better than this. Or maybe it can, and it’s for them to figure out.

Together.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title song: Bette Midler - Wind Beneath My Wings
> 
> Aw, that's it, folks! Thanks so much for all your love for this story :)   
> You can find the complete playlist for this story [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2gy6jjAd9i9DivfEedF2Wg).  
> I'll be back soon!  
> Follow me on Twitter: @queststar


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